THE  PLUM  TREE 


THE  PLUM  TREE 


By 

DAVID  GRAHAM  PHILLIPS 

/l 

Author  of 
The  Cost,  Golden  Fleece,  Etc. 


ILLUSTRATED  BY 

E.  M.  ASHE 


INDIANAPOLIS 

THE  BOBBS-MERRILL  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


Copyright  1905 
The  Bobbs-Merrill  Company 

March 


PRESS  OF 

BRAUNWORTH  &  CO. 

BOOKBINDERS  AND  PRINTERS 

BROOKLYN,  N.  Y. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I  How  IT  ALL  BEGAN  i 

II  AT  THE  COURT  OF  A  SOVEREIGN  17, 

III  SAYLER  "DRAWS  THE  LINE"  33 

IV  THE  SCHOOL  OF  LIFE-AS-IT-IS  44 
V  A  GOOD  MAN  AND  His  WOES  68 

VI  Miss  RAMSAY  REVOLTS  78 

VII  BYGONES  96 

VIII  A  CALL  FROM  "THE  PARTY"  107 

IX  To  THE  SEATS  OF  THE  MIGHTY  123 

X  THE  FACE  IN  THE  CROWD  136 

XI  BURBANK  144 

XII  BURBANK  FIRES  THE  POPULAR  HEART  163 

XIII  ROEBUCK  &  Co.  PASS  UNDER  THE  YOKE          168 

XIV  A  "  BOOM-FACTORY  "  177 
XV  MUTINY  193 

XVI  A  VICTORY  FOR  THE  PEOPLE  199 

XVII  SCARBOROUGH  209 

XVIII  A  DANGEROUS  PAUSE  221 

XIX  DAVID  SENT  OUT  AGAINST  GOLIATH  224 

XX  PILGRIMS  AND  PATRIOTS  234 

XXI  AN  INTERLUDE  249 

XXII  MOSTLY  ABOUT  MONEY  261 

XXIII  IN  WHICH  A  MOUSE  HELPS  A  LION  271 

XXIV  GRANBY  INTRUDES  AGAIN  282 
XXV  AN  HOUR  OF  EMOTION  292 

XXVI  "ONLY  AN  OLD  JOKE"  296 

XXVII  A  DOMESTIC  DISCORD  306 

XXVIII  UNDER  A  CRAYON  PORTRAIT  314 

XXIX  A  LETTER  FROM  THE  DEAD  327 

XXX  A  PHILOSOPHER  RUDELY  INTERRUPTED  333 

XXXI  HARVEY  SAYLER,  SWINEHERD  345 

XXXII  A  GLANCE  BEHIND  THE  MASK  OF  GRANDEUR     365 

XXXIII  A  "SPASM  OF  VIRTUE"  380 

XXXIV  "LET  Us  HELP  EACH  OTHER"  387 

M22L61 


THE  PLUM  TREE 


THE  PLUM  TREE 


HOW  IT  ALL  BEGAN 

"We  can  hold  out  six  months  longer, — at  least 
six  months."  My  mother's  tone  made  the  six 
months  stretch  encouragingly  into  six  long 
years. 

I  see  her  now,  vividly  as  if  it  were  only  yester 
day.  We  were  at  our  scant  breakfast,  I  as  blue 
as  was  ever  even  twenty-five,  she  brave  and  con 
fident.  And  hers  was  no  mere  pretense  to  reas 
sure  me,  no  cheerless  optimism  of  ignorance,  but 
the  through-and-through  courage  and  strength  of 
those  who  flinch  for  no  bogey  that  life  or  death 
can  conjure.  Her  tone  lifted  me;  I  glanced  at 
her,  and  what  shone  from  her  eyes  set  me  on  my 
feet,  face  to  the  foe.  The  table-cloth  was  darned 
in  many  places,  but  so  skilfully  that  you  could 

I 


2  THE   PLUM   TREE 

have  looked  closely  without  detecting  it.  Not  a 
lump  of  sugar,  not  a  slice  of  bread,  went  to  waste 
in  that  house;  yet  even  I  had  to  think  twice  to 
realize  that  we  were  poor,  desperately  poor.  She 
idid  not  hide  our  poverty;  she  beautified  it,  she 
dignified  it  into  Spartan  simplicity.  I  know  it  is 
not  the  glamour  over  the  past  that  makes  me  be 
lieve  there  are  no  women  now  like  those  of  the 
race  to  which  she  belonged.  A'The  world,  to-day, 
yields  comfort  too  easily  to  the  capable ;  hardship 
is  the  only  mould  for  such  character,  and  in  those 
days,  in  this  middle-western  country,  even  the 
capable  were  not  strangers  to  hardship. 

"When  I  was  young,"  she  went  on,  "and 
things  looked  black,  as  they  have  a  habit  of  look 
ing  to  the  young  and  inexperienced," — that  put 
in  with  a  teasing  smile  for  me, — "I  used  to  say 
to  myself,  'Well,  anyhow,  they  can't  kill  me/ 
And  the  thought  used  to  cheer  me  up  wonder 
fully.  In  fact,  it  still  does." 

I  no  longer  felt  hopeless.  I  began  to  gnaw  my 
troubles  again — despair  is  still. 

"Judge  Granby  is  a  dog,"  said  I ;  "yes,  a  dog." 

"Why   'dog'?"   objected  my  mother.     "Why 


HOW   IT   ALL   BEGAN  3 

not  simply  'mean  man'  ?  I've  never  known  a  dog 
that  could  equal  a  man  who  set  out  to  be 
'ornery/  " 

"When  I  think  of  all  the  work  I've  done  for 
him  in  these  three  years — " 

"For  yourself,"  she  interrupted.  "Work  you 
do  for  others  doesn't  amount  to  much  unless  it's 
been  first  and  best  for  yourself." 

"But  he  was  benefited  by  it,  too,"  I  urged, 
"and  has  taken  life  easy,  and  has  had  more  cli 
ents  and  bigger  fees  than  he  ever  had  before.  I'd 
like  to  give  him  a  jolt.  I'd  stop  nagging  him  to 
put  my  name  in  a  miserable  corner  of  the  glass  in 
his  door.  I'd  hang  out  a  big  sign  of  my  own  over 
my  own  office  door." 

My  mother  burst  into  a  radiant  smile.  "I've 
been  waiting  a  year  to  hear  that,"  she  said. 

Thereupon  I  had  a  shock  of  fright — inside, 
for  I'd  never  have  dared  to  show  fear  before  my 
mother.  There's  nothing  else  that  makes  you  so 
brave  as  living  with  some  one  before  whom  you 
haven't  the  courage  to  let  your  cowardice  show 
its  feather.  If  we  didn't  keep  each  other  up  to  the 
mark,  what  a  spectacle  of  fright  and  flight  this 


4  THE   PLUM   TREE 

world-"drama  would  be!  Vanity,  the  greatest  of 
vices,  is  also  the  greatest  of  virtues,  or  the  source 
of  the  greatest  virtues — which  comes  to  the  same 
thing. 

"When  will  you  do  it?"  she  went  on,  and  then 
I  knew  I  was  in  for  it,  and  how  well-founded  was 
the  suspicion  that  had  been  keeping  my  lips  tight- 
shut  upon  my  dream  of  independence. 

"I'll — I'll  think  about  it,"  was  my  answer,  in 
a  tone  which  I  hoped  she  would  see  was  not  hesi 
tating,  but  reflective;  "I  mustn't  go  too  far, — or 
too  fast." 

"Better  go  too  far  and  too  fast  than  not  go  at 
all,"  retorted  my  wise  mother.  "Once  a  tortoise 
beat  a  hare, — once.  It  never  happened  again,  yet 
the  whole  timid  world  has  been  talking  about  it 
ever  since."  And  she  fell  into  a  study  from  which 
she  roused  herself  to  say,  "You'd  better  let  me 
bargain  for  the  office  and  the  furniture, — and  the 
big  sign."  She  knew — but  could  not  or  would 
not  teach  me — how  to  get  a  dollar's  worth  for  a 
dollar ;  would  not,  I  suspect,  for  she  despised  par 
simony,  declaring  it  to  be  another  virtue  which  is 
becoming  only  in  a  woman. 


HOW    IT   ALL   BEGAN  5 

"Of  course, — when — "  I  began. 

"We've  got  to  do  something  in  the  next  six 
months,"  she  warned.  And  now  she  made  the  six 
months  seem  six  minutes. 

I  had  at  my  tongue's  end  something  about  the 
danger  of  dragging  her  down  into  misfortune; 
but  before  speaking  I  looked  at  her,  and,  looking, 
refrained.  To  say  it  to  her  would  have  been  too 
absurd, — to  her  who  had  been  left  a  widow  with 
nothing  at  all,  who  had  educated  me  for  college, 
and  who  had  helped  me  through  my  first  year 
there, — helped  me  with  money,  I  mean.  But  for 
what  she  gave  besides,  more,  immeasurably  more, 
— but  for  her  courage  in  me  and  round  me  and 
under  me, — I'd  never  have  got  my  degree  or  any 
thing  else,  I  fear.  To  call  that  courage  help 
would  be  like  saying  the  mainspring  helps  the 
watch  to  go.  I  looked  at  her.  "They  can't  kill 
me,  can  they?"  said  I,  with  a  laugh  which  sound 
ed  so  brave  that  it  straightway  made  me  brave. 

So  it  was  settled. 

But  that  was  the  first  step  in  a  fight  I  can't  re 
member  even  now  without  a  sinking  at  the  heart. 
The  farmers  of  Jackson  County,  of  which  Pulaski 


6  THE   PLUM   TREE 

was  the  county  seat,  found  in  litigation  their  chief 
distraction  from  the  stupefying  dullness  of  farm 
life  in  those  days  of  pause,  after  the  Indian  and 
nature  had  been  conquered  and  before  the  big 
world's  arteries  of  thought  and  action  had  pene 
trated.  The  farmers  took  eagerly  to  litigation 
to  save  themselves  from  stagnation.  Still,  a 
new  lawyer,  especially  if  he  was  young,  had  an 
agonizing  time  of  it  convincing  their  slow,  stiff, 
suspicious  natures  that  he  could  be  trusted  in  such 
a  crisis  as  "going  to  law." 

To  make  matters  worse  I  fell  in  love. 

Once — it  was  years  afterward,  though  not 
many  years  ago — Burbank,  at  the  time  governor, 
was  with  me,  and  we  were  going  over  the  main 
points  for  his  annual  message.  One  of  my  sug 
gestions — my  orders  to  all  my  agents,  high  and 
low,  have  always  been  sugar-coated  as  "sugges 
tions" — started  a  new  train  of  thought  in  him, 
'and  he  took  pen  and  paper  to  fix  it  before  it  had 
a  chance  to  escape.  As  he  wrote,  my  glance  wan 
dered  along  the  shelves  of  the  book-cases.  It 
paused  on  the  farthest  and  lowest  shelf.  I  rose 


HOW   IT   ALL   BEGAN  7 

and  went  there,  and  found  my  old  school-books, 
those  I  used  when  I  was  in  Public  School  Num 
ber  Three,  too  near  thirty  years  ago ! 

In  the  shelf  one  book  stood  higher  than  the 
others — tall  and  thin  and  ragged,  its  covers  torn, 
its  pages  scribbled,  stained  and  dog-eared.  Look 
ing  through  that  old  physical  geography  was  like 
a  first  talk  with  a  long-lost  friend.  It  had,  in 
deed,  been  my  old  friend.  Behind  its  broad  back 
I  had  eaten  forbidden  apples,  I  had  aimed  and 
discharged  the  blow-gun,  I  had  reveled  in  blood- 
and-thunder  tales  that  made  the  drowsy  school 
room  fade  before  the  vast  wilderness,  the  scene 
of  breathless  struggles  between  Indian  and  set 
tler,  or  open  into  the  high  seas  where  pirate,  or 
worse-than-pirate  Britisher,  struck  flag  to  Amer 
ican  privateer  or  man-o'-war. 

On  an  impulse  shot  up  from  the  dustiest  depths 
of  memory,  I  turned  the  old  geography  sidewise 
and  examined  the  edges  of  the  cover.  Yes,  there 
was  the  cache  I  had  made  by  splitting  the  paste 
board  with  my  jack-knife.  I  thrust  in  my  finger 
nail  ;  out  came  a  slip  of  paper.  I  glanced  at  Bur- 
bank — he  was  still  busy.  I,  somewhat  stealth- 


8  THE   PLUM   TREE 

ily,  you  may  imagine,  opened  the  paper  and — 
well,  my  heart  beat  much  more  rapidly  as  I  saw 
in  a  school-girl  scrawl: 


I  was  no  longer  master  of  a  state ;  I  was  a  boy 
in  school  again.  I  could  see  her  laboring  over 
this  game  of  "friendship,  love,  indifference,  hate." 
I  could  see  "Redney"  Griggs,  who  sat  between 
her  and  me,  in  the  row  of  desks  between  and 
parallel  to  my  row  and  hers, — could  see  him 
swoop  and  snatch  the  paper  from  her,  look  at  it, 
grin  maliciously,  and  toss  it  over  to  me.  I  was 
in  grade  A,  was  sixteen,  and  was  beginning  to 
take  myself  seriously.  She  was  in  grade  D,  was 
little  more  than  half  my  age,  but  looked  older, — 
and  how  sweet  and  pretty  she  was!  She  had 
black  hair,  thick  and  wavy,  with  little  tresses  es 
caping  from  plaits  and  ribbons  to  float  about  her 
forehead,  ears,  and  neck.  Her  skin  was  darker 
then,  I  think,  than  it  is  now,  but  it  had  the  same 


HOW   IT   ALL   BEGAN  9 

smoothness   and   glow, — certainly,   it  could  not 
have  had  more. 

I  think  the  dart  must  have  struck  that  day, — 
why  else  did  I  keep  the  bit  of  paper?  But  it  did 
not  trouble  me  until  the  first  winter  of  my  launch 
ing  forth  as  "Harvey  Sayler,  Attorney  and 
Counselor  at  Law/'  She  was  the  daughter  of  the 
Episcopal  preacher;  and,  as  every  one  thought 
well  of  the  prospects  of  my  mother's  son,  our 
courtship  was  undisturbed.  Then,  in  the  spring, 
when  fortune  was  at  its  coldest  and  love  at  its 
most  feverish,  her  father  accepted  a  call  to  a 
church  in  Boston,  eight  hundred  miles  away. 

To  go  to  see  her  was  impossible;  how  could 
the  money  be  spared, — fifty  dollars,  at  the  least  ? 
Once — when  they  had  been  gone  about  four 
months — my  mother  insisted  that  I  must.  But  I 
refused,  and  I  do  not  know  whether  it  is  to  my 
credit  or  not,  for  my  refusal  gave  her  only  pain, 
whereas  the  sacrifices  she  would  have  had  to 
make,  had  I  gone,  would  have  given  her  only 
pleasure.  I  had  no  fear  that  Betty  would  change 
in  our  separation.  There  are  some  people  you 


io  THE   PLUM   TREE 

hope  are  stanch,  and  some  people  you  think  will 
be  stanch,  if — ,  and  then  there  are  those,  many 
women  and  a  few  men,  whom  it  is  impossible  to 
think  of  as  false  or  even  faltering.  I  did  not  fully 
appreciate  that  quality  then,  for  my  memory  was 
not  then  dotted  with  the  graves  of  false  friend 
ships  and  littered  with  the  rubbish  of  broken 
promises ;  but  I  did  appreciate  it  enough  to  build 
securely  upon  it. 

Build  ?  No,  that  is  not  the  word.  There  may 
be  those  who  are  stimulated  to  achievement  by 
being  in  love,  though  I  doubt  it.  At  any  rate,  I 
was  not  one  of  them.  My  love  for  her  absorbed 
my  thoughts,  and  paralyzed  my  courage.  Of  the 
qualities  that  have  contributed  to  what  success  I 
may  have  had,  I  put  in  the  first  rank  a  disposi 
tion  to  see  the  gloomiest  side  of  the  future.  But 
it  has  not  helped  to  make  my  life  happier,  invalu 
able  though  it  has  been  in  preventing  misadven 
ture  from  catching  me  napping. 

So  another  year  passed.  Then  came  hard 
times, — real  hard  times.  I  had  some  clients — 
enough  to  insure  mother  and  myself  a  living, 
with  the  interest  on  mortgage  and  note  kept 


HOW   IT   ALL  BEGAN  11 

down.  But  my  clients  were  poor,  and  poor  pay, 
and  slow  pay.  Nobody  was  doing  well  but  the 
note-shavers.  I —  How  mother  fought  to  keep 
the  front  brave  and  bright! — not  her  front,  for 
that  was  bright  by  nature,  like  the  sky  beyond 
the  clouds;  but  our  front,  my  front, — the  front 
of  our  affairs.  No  one  must  see  that  we  were 
pinching, — so  I  must  be  the  most  obviously  pros 
perous  young  lawyer  in  Pulaski.  What  that 
struggle  cost  her  I  did  not  then  realize ;  no,  could 
not  realize  until  I  looked  at  her  face  for  the  last 
time,  looked  and  turned  away  and  thought  on 
the  meaning  of  the  lines  and  the  hollows  over 
which  Death  had  spread  his  proclamation  of  eter 
nal  peace.  I  have  heard  it  said  of  those  mark 
ings  in  human  faces,  "How  ugly !"  But  it  seems 
to  me  that,  to  any  one  with  eyes  and  imagination, 
line  and  wrinkle  and  hollow  always  have  the 
somber  grandeur  of  tragedy.  I  remember  my 
mother  when  her  face  was  smooth  and  had  the 
shallow  beauty  that  the  shallow  dote  on.  But 
her  face  whereon  was  written  the  story  of  fear 
lessness,  sacrifice,  and  love, — that  is  the  face  beau 
tiful  of  my  mother  for  me. 


12  THE   PLUM   TREE 

In  the  midst  of  those  times  of  trial,  when  she 
had  ceased  to  smile, — for  she  had  none  of  that 
hypocritical  cheerfulness  which  depresses  and  is 
a  mere  vanity  to  make  silly  onlookers  cry 
"Brave!"  when  there  is  no  true  bravery, — just 
when  we  were  at  our  lowest  ebb,  came  an  offer 
from  Bill  Dominick  to  put  me  into  politics. 

I  had  been  interested  in  politics  ever  since  I 
was  seven  years  old.  I  recall  distinctly  the  be 
ginning  : — 

On  a  November  afternoon, — it  must  have  been 
November,  though  I  remember  that  it  was  sum 
mer-warm,  with  all  the  windows  open  and  many 
men  in  the  streets  in  shirt-sleeves, — at  any  rate,  I 
was  on  my  way  home  from  school.  As  I  neared 
the  court-house  I  saw  a  crowd  in  the  yard  and 
was  reminded  that  it  was  election  day,  and  that 
my  father  was  running  for  reelection  to  the  state 
senate;  so,  I  bolted  for  his  law  office  in  the  sec 
ond  story  of  the  Masonic  Temple,  across  the 
street  from  the  court-house. 

He  was  at  the  window  and  was  looking  at  the 
polling  place  so  intently  that  he  took  no  notice  of 
me  as  I  stood  beside  him.  I  know  now  why  he 


HOW   IT  ALL   BEGAN  13 

was  absorbed  and  why  his  face  was  stern  and 
sad.  I  can  shut  my  eyes  and  see  that  court-house 
yard,  the  long  line  of  men  going  up  to  vote,  sin 
gle  file,  each  man  calling  out  his  name  as  he 
handed  in  his  ballot,  and  Tom  Weedon — who 
shot  an  escaping  prisoner  when  he  was  deputy 
sheriff — repeating  the  name  in  a  loud  voice. 
Each  oncoming  voter  in  that  curiously  regular 
and  compact  file  was  holding  out  his  right  arm 
stiff  so  that  the  hand  was  about  a  foot  clear  of 
the  thigh ;  and  in  every  one  of  those  thus  con 
spicuous  hands  was  a  conspicuous  bit  of  white 
paper — a  ballot.  As  each  man  reached  the  poll 
ing  window  and  gave  in  his  name,  he  swung 
that  hand  round  with  a  stiff-armed,  circular  mo 
tion  that  kept  it  clear  of  the  body  and  in  full 
view  until  the  bit  of  paper  disappeared  in  the  slit 
in  the  ballot  box. 

I  wished  to  ask  my  father  what  this  strange 
spectacle  meant;  but,  as  I  glanced  up  at  him  to 
begin  my  question,  I  knew  I  must  not,  for  I  felt 
that  I  was  seeing  something  which  shocked  him 
so  profoundly  that  he  would  take  me  away  if  I 
reminded  him  of  my  presence.  I  know  now  that 


14  THE   PLUM   TREE 

I  was  witnessing  the  crude  beginnings  of  the 
money-machine  in  politics, — the  beginnings  of 
the  downfall  of  parties, — the  beginnings  of  the 
overthrow  of  the  people  as  the  political  power. 
Those  stiff-armed  men  were  the  "floating  voters" 
of  that  ward  of  Pulaski.  They  had  been  bought 
up  by  a  rich  candidate  of  the  opposition  party, 
which  was  less  scrupulous  than  our  party,  then 
in  the  flush  of  devotion  to  "principles"  and  led  by 
such  old-fashioned  men  as  my  father  with  old- 
fashioned  notions  of  honor  and  honesty.  Those 
"floaters"  had  to  keep  the  ballot  in  full  view  from 
the  time  they  got  it  of  the  agent  of  their  pur 
chaser  until  they  had  deposited  it  beyond  the 
possibility  of  substitution — he  must  see  them  "de 
liver  the  goods." 

My  father  was  defeated.  He  saw  that,  in  poli 
tics,  the  day  of  the  public  servant  of  public  in 
terests  was  over,  and  that  the  night  of  the  private 
servant  of  private  interests  had  begun.  He  re 
signed  the  leadership  into  the  dexterous  hands 
of  a  politician.  Soon  afterward  he  died,  mutter 
ing  :  "Prosperity  has  ruined  my  country !" 

From  that  election  day  my  interest  in  politics 


HOW  IT  ALL  BEGAN  15 

grew,  and  but  for  my  mother's  bitter  prejudice 
I  should  have  been  an  active  politician,  perhaps 
before  I  was  out  of  college. 

Pulaski,  indeed  all  that  section  of  my  state, 
was  strongly  of  my  party.  Therefore  Dominick, 
its  local  boss,  was  absolute.  At  the  last  county 
election,  four  years  before  the  time  of  which  I 
am  writing,  there  had  been  a  spasmodic  attempt 
to  oust  him.  He  had  grown  so  insolent,  and  had 
put  his  prices  for  political  and  political-commer 
cial  "favors"  to  our  leading  citizens  so  high, 
that  the  "best  element"  in  our  party  reluctantly 
broke  from  its  allegiance.  To  save  himself  he 
had  been  forced  to  order  flagrant  cheating  on  the 
tally  sheets;  his  ally  and  fellow  conspirator, 
M'Coskrey,  the  opposition  boss,  was  caught  and 
was  indicted  by  the  grand  jury.  The  Reformers 
made  such  a  stir  that  Ben  Cass,  the  county  prose 
cutor,  though  a  Dominick  man,  disobeyed  his 
master  and  tried  and  convicted  M'Coskrey.  Of 
course,  following  the  custom  in  cases  of  yielding 
to  pressure  from  public  sentiment,  he  made  the 
trial-errors  necessary  to  insure  reversal  in  the 
higher  court;  and  he  finally  gave  Dominick's 


16  THE  PLUM  TREE 

judge  the  opportunity  to  quash  the  indictment. 
But  the  boss  was  relentless, — Cass  had  been 
disobedient,  and  had  put  upon  "my  friend 
M'Coskrey"  the  disgrace  of  making  a  sorry  fig 
ure  in  court.  "Ben  can  look  to  his  swell  reform 
friends  for  a  renomination,"  said  he;  "he'll  not 
get  it  from  me." 

Thus  it  came  to  pass  that  Dominick's  lieuten 
ant,  Buck  Fessenden,  appeared  in  my  office  one 
afternoon  in  July,  and,  after  a  brief  parley,  asked 
me  how  I'd  like  to  be  prosecuting  attorney  of 
Jackson  County.  Four  thousand  a  year  for  four 
years,  and  a  reelection  if  I  should  give  satisfac 
tion;  and  afterward,  the  bench  or  a  seat  in  Con 
gress!  I  could  pay  off  everything;  I  could 
marry ! 

It  was  my  first  distinct  vision  of  the  plum  tree. 
To  how  many  thousands  of  our  brightest,  most 
promising  young  Americans  it  is  shown  each 
year  in  just  such  circumstances ! 


II 

rAT   THE    COURT   OF   A    SOVEREIGN 

That  evening  after  supper  I  went  to  see  Domi- 
nick. 

In  the  lower  end  of  Pulaski  there  was  a  large 
beer-garden,  known  as  Dominick's  headquarters. 
He  received  half  the  profits  in  return  for  making 
it  his  loafing-place,  the  seat  of  the  source  of  all 
political  honor,  preferment  and  privilege  in  the 
third,  sixth  and  seventh  congressional  districts. 
I  found  him  enthroned  at  the  end  of  a  long  table 
in  the  farthest  corner  of  the  garden.  On  one  side 
of  him  sat  James  Spencer,  judge  of  the  circuit 
court, — "Dominick's  judge" ;  on  the  other  side 
Henry  De  Forest,  principal  owner  of  the  Pulaski 
Gas  and  Street  Railway  Company.  There  were 
several  minor  celebrities  in  politics,  the  law,  and 
business  down  either  side  of  the  table,  then  Fes- 
senden,  talking  with  Cowley,  our  lieutenant  gov 
ernor.,  As  soon  as  I  appeared  Fessenden  nodded 


i8  THE  PLUM  TREE 

to  me,  rose,  and  said  to  the  others  generally: 
"Come  on,  boys,  let's  adjourn  to  the  next  table. 
Mr.  Dominick  wants  to  talk  to  this  young  fel 
low." 

I  knew  something  of  politics,  but  I  was  not. 
prepared  to  see  that  distinguished  company  rise 
and,  with  not  a  shadow  of  resentment  on  any 
man's  face,  with  only  a  respectful,  envious  glance 
at  me,  who  was  to  deprive  them  of  sunshine  for 
a  few  minutes,  remove  themselves  and  their 
glasses  to  another  table.  When  I  knew  Domi 
nick  better,  and  other  bosses  in  this  republic  of 
ours,  I  knew  that  the  boss  is  never  above  the 
weaknesses  of  the  monarch  class  for  a  rigid  and 
servile  court  etiquette.  My  own  lack  of  this 
weakness  has  been  a  mistake  which  might  have 
been  serious  had  my  political  power  been  based 
upon  men.  It  is  a  blunder  to  treat  men  without 
self-respect  as  if  they  were  your  equals.  They 
expect  to  cringe ;  if  they  are  not  compelled  to  do 
so,  they  are  very  likely  to  forget  their  place.  At 
the  court  of  a  boss  are  seen  only  those  who  have 
lost  self-respect  and  those  who  never  had  it.  The 


AT  THE   COURT   OF  A   SOVEREIGN          ig 

first  are  the  lower  though  they  rank  themselves, 
and  are  ranked,  above  the  "just  naturally  low." 

But — Dominick  was  alone,  his  eternal  glass  of 
sarsaparilla  before  him.  He  used  the  left  corner 
of  his  mouth  both  for  his  cigar  and  for  speech. 
To  bid  me  draw  near  and  seat  myself,  he  had  to 
shift  his  cigar.  When  the  few  words  necessary 
were  half-spoken,  half-grunted,  he  rolled  his 
cigar  back  to  the  corner  which  it  rarely  left.  He 
nodded  condescendingly,  and,  as  I  took  the  indi 
cated  chair  at  his  right,  gave  me  a  hand  that  was 
fat  and  firm,  not  unlike  the  flabby  yet  tenacious 
sucker  of  a  moist  sea-creature. 

He  was  a  huge,  tall  man,  enormously  muscu 
lar,  with  a  high  head  like  a  block,  straight  in 
front,  behind  and  on  either  side ;  keen,  shifty,  pig 
eyes,  pompous  cheeks,  a  raw,  wide  mouth;  slov 
enly  dress,  with  a  big  diamond  as  a  collar  button 
and  another  on  his  puffy  little  finger.  He  was 
about  forty  years  old,  had  graduated  from  black 
smith  too  lazy  to  work  into  prize-fighter,  thence 
into  saloon-keeper.  It  was  as  a  saloon-keeper  that 
he  founded  and  built  his  power,  made  himself  the 


20  THE   PLUM   TREE 

,  local  middleman  between  our  two  great  political 
factors,  those  who  buy  and  break  laws  and  those 
who  aid  and  abet  the  lawlessness  by  selling  them 
selves  as  voters  or  as  office-holders. 
\  Dominick  had  fixed  his  eyes  upon  his  sarsapa- 
rilla.  He  frowned  savagely  into  its  pale  brown 
.'  foam  when  he  realized  that  I  purposed  to  force 
him  to  speak  first.  His  voice  was  ominously  surly 
as  he  shifted  his  cigar  to  say :  "Well,  young  fel 
low,  what  can  I  do  for  you?" 

"Mr.  Fessenden  told  me  you  wanted  to  see 
me,"  said  I. 

"He  didn't  say  nothing  of  the  sort,"  growled 
Dominick.  "I've  knowed  Buck  seventeen  years, 
and  he  ain't  no  liar." 

I  flushed  and  glanced  at  the  distinguished  com 
pany  silently  waiting  to  return  to  the  royal  pres 
ence.  Surely,  if  these  eminent  fellow  citizens  of 
mine  endured  this  insulting  monarch,  I  could, — 
I,  the  youthful,  the  obscure,  the  despondent.  Said 
I :  "Perhaps  I  did  not  express  myself  quite  accu 
rately.  Fessenden  told  me  you  were  considering 
making  me  your  candidate  for  county  prosecutor, 
and  suggested  that  I  call  and  see  you." 


HE    SHIFTED    HIS    CIGAR    TO    SAY:    "  WELL,   YOUNG  FELLOW,    WHAT 
CAN    1    DO   FOR    YOU  ?  "   /.  2V 


AT  THE  COURT  OF  A   SOVEREIGN         2i 

Dominick  gave  a  gleam  and  a  grunt  like  a  hog 
that  has  been  flattered  with  a  rough  scratching  of 
its  hide.  But  he  answered :  "I  don't  give  no 
nominations.  That's  the  province  of  the  party, 
young  man." 

"But  you  are  the  party,"  was  my  reply.  At 
the  time  I  was  not  conscious  that  I  had  thus 
easily  dropped  down  among  the  hide-scratchers. 
I  assured  myself  that  I  was  simply  stating  the 
truth,  and  ignored  the  fact  that  telling  the  truth 
can  be  the  most  degrading  sycophancy,  and  the 
subtlest  and  for  that  reason  the  most  shameless, 
lying. 

"Well,  I  guess  I've  got  a  little  something  to 
say  about  the  party,"  he  conceded.  "Us  young 
fellows  that  are  active  in  politics  like  to  see  young 
fellows  pushed  to  the  front.  A  good  many  of  the 
boys  ain't  stuck  on  Ben  Cass, — he's  too  stuck  on 
himself.  He's  getting  out  of  touch  with  the  com 
mon  people,  and  is  boot-licking  in  with  the  swells 
up  town.  So,  when  I  heard  you  wanted  the  nomi 
nation  for  prosecutor,  I  told  Buck  to  trot  you 
round  and  let  us  look  you  over.  Good  party 
man?" 


22  THE  PLUM   TREE 

"Yes — and  my  father  and  grandfather  before 


me." 


"No  reform  germs  in  your  system  ?" 

I  laughed — I  was  really  amused,  such  a  relief 
was  it  to  see  a  gleam  of  pleasantry  in  that  menac 
ing  mass.  "I'm  no  better  than  my  party,"  said 
I,  "and  I  don't  desert  it  just  because  it  doesn't 
happen  to  do  everything  according  to  my  no 
tions." 

"That's  right,"  approved  Dominick,  falling 
naturally  into  the  role  of  political  schoolmaster. 
"There  ain't  no  government  without  responsibil 
ity,  and  there  ain't  no  responsibility  without  or 
ganization,  and  there  ain't  no  organization  with 
out  men  willing  to  sink  their  differences."  He 
paused. 

I  looked  my  admiration, — I  was  most  grateful 
to  him  for  this  chance  to  think  him  an  intellect. 
Who  likes  to  admit  that  he  bows  before  a  mere 
brute  ?  The  compulsory  courtiers  of  a  despot  may 
possibly  and  in  part  tell  the  truth  about  him,  after 
they  are  safe;  but  was  there  ever  a  voluntary 
courtier  whose  opinion  of  his  monarch  could  be 
believed?  The  more  distinguished  the  courtier 


AT  THE  COURT  OF  A   SOVEREIGN         23 

the  greater  his  necessity  to  exaggerate  his  royal 
master — or  mistress — to  others  and  to  himself. 

Dominick  forged  on :  "Somebody's  got  to  lead, 
and  the  leader's  got  to  be  obeyed.  Otherwise 
what  becomes  of  the  party  ?  Why,  it  goes  to  hell, 
and  we've  got  anarchy." 

This  was  terse,  pointed,  plausible — the  stereo 
typed  "machine"  argument.  I  nodded  emphati 
cally. 

"Ben  Cass,"  he  proceeded,  "believes  in  disci 
pline  and  organization  and  leadership  only  when 
they're  to  elect  him  to  a  fat  job.  He  wants  to  use 
the  party,  but  when  the  party  wants  service  in 
return,  up  goes  Mr.  Cass'  snout  and  tail,  and  off 
he  lopes.  He's  what  I  call  a  cast  iron — "  I  shall 
omit  the  vigorous  phrase  wherein  he  summarized 
Cass.  His  vocabulary  was  not  large ;  he  therefore 
frequently  resorted  to  the  garbage  barrel  and  the 
muck  heap  for  missiles. 

I  showed  in  my  face  my  scorn  for  the  Cass  sort 
of  selfishness  and  insubordination.  "The  leader 
has  all  the  strings  in  his  hand,"  said  I.  "He's 
thexmly  one  who  can  judge  what  must  be  done. 
He  must  be  trusted  and  obeyed." 


24  THE   PLUM   TREE 

"I  see  you've  got  the  right  stuff  in  you,  young 
man,"  said  Dominick  heartily.  "So  you  want  the 
job?" 

I  hesitated, — I  was  thinking  of  him,  of  his 
bestial  tyranny,  and  of  my  self-respect,  unsullied, 
but  also  untempted,  theretofore. 

He  scowled.   "Do  you,  or  don't  you?" 

"Yes,"  said  I,— I  was  thinking  of  the  debts 
and  mother  and  Betty.  "Yes,  indeed ;  I'd  esteem 
it  a  great  honor,  and  I'd  be  grateful  to  you."  If 
I  had  thrust  myself  over-head  into  a  sewer  I 
should  have  felt  less  vile  than  I  did  as  my  fears 
and  longings  uttered  those  degrading  words. 

He  grunted.  "Well,  we'll  see.  Tell  the  boys 
at  the  other  table  to  come  back."  He  nodded  a 
dismissal  and  gave  me  that  moist,  strong  grip 
again. 

As  I  went  toward  the  other  table  each  man 
there  had  a  hand  round  his  glass  in  readiness  for 
the  message  of  recall.  I  mentally  called  the  roll 
— wealth,  respectability,  honor,  all  on  their  knees 
before  Dominick,  each  with  his  eye  upon  the 
branch  of  the  plum  tree  that  bore  the  kind  of 
fruit  he  fancied.  And  I  wondered  how  they  felt 


AT   THE   COURT   OF   A   SOVEREIGN          25 

inside, — for  I  was  then  ignorant  of  the  great 
foundation  truth  of  practical  ethics,  that  a  man's 
conscience  is  not  the  producer  but  the  product  of 
his  career. 

Fessenden  accompanied  me  to  the  door.  "The 
old  man's  in  a  hell  of  a  humor  to-night,"  said  he. 
"His  wife's  caught  on  to  a  little  game  he's  been 
up  to,  and  she's  the  only  human  being  he's  afraid 
of.  She  came  in  here,  one  night,  and  led  him  out 
by  the  ear.  What  a  fool  a  man  is  to  marry  when 
there's  a  chance  of  running  into  a  mess  like  that ! 
But — you  made  a  hit  with  him.  Besides,  he  needs 
you.  Your  family — "  Buck  checked  himself, 
feeling  that  drink  was  making  him  voluble. 

"He's  a  strong  man,  isn't  he?"  said  I;  "a  born 
leader." 

"Middle-weight  champion  in  his  day,"  replied 
Fessenden.  "He  can  still  knock  out  anybody  in 
the  organization  in  one  round." 

"Good  night  and,  thank  you,"  said  I.  So  I 
went  my  way,  not  elated  but  utterly  depressed, — 
more  depressed  than  when  I  won  the  first  case  in 
which  I  knew  my  client's  opponent  was  in  the 
right  and  had  lost  only  because  I  outgeneraled 


26  THE   PLUM   TREE 

his  stupid  lawyer.  I  was,  like  most  of  the  sons 
and  daughters  of  the  vigorous  families  of  the 
earnest,  deeply  religious  early- West,  an  idealist 
by  inheritance  and  by  training ;  but  I  suppose  any 
young  man,  however  practical,  must  feel  a  shock 
when  he  begins  those  compromises  between  theo 
retical  and  practical  right  which  are  part  of  the 
daily  routine  of  active  life,  and  without  which 
active  life  is  impossible. 

I  had  said  nothing  to  my  mother,  because  I  did 
not  wish  to  raise  her  hopes — or  her  objections.  I 
now  decided  to  be  silent  until  the  matter  should 
be  settled.  The  next  day  but  one  Fessenden  came, 
bad  news  in  his  face.  "The  old  man  liked  you," 
he  began,  "but—" 

I  had  not  then  learned  to  control  my  expres 
sion.  I  could  not  help  showing  what  ruins  of 
lofty  castles  that  ominous  "but"  dropped  upon 
my  head. 

"You'll  soon  be  used  to  getting  it  in  the  neck 
if  you  stay  in  politics,"  said  Fessenden.  "There's 
not  much  else.  But  you  ain't  so  bad  off  as  you 
think.  The  old  man  has  decided  that  he  can  af 
ford  to  run  one  of  his  reliable  hacks  for  the  place. 


AT  THE   COURT   OF  A   SOVEREIGN         27 

He's  suddenly  found  a  way  of  sinking  his  hooks 
in  the  head  devil  of  the  Reformers  and  Ben  Cass* 
chief  backer,  Singer, — you  know  him, — the  law- 
yer." 

Singer  was  one  of  the  leaders  of  the  state  bar 
and  superintendent  of  our  Sunday-school. 

"Dominick  has  made  De  Forest  give  Singer 
the  law  business  of  the  Gas  and  Street  Railway 
Company,  so  Singer  is  coming  over  to  us."  Buck 
grinned.  "He  has  found  that  'local  interests  must 
be  subordinated  to  the  broader  interests  of  the 
party  in  state  and  nation.' ' 

I  had  been  reading  in  our  party's  morning  pa 
per  what  a  wise  and  patriotic  move  Singer  had 
made  in  advising  the  putting  off  of  a  Reform 
campaign, — and  I  had  believed  in  the  sincerity  of 
his  motive! 

Fessenden  echoed  my  sneer,  and  went  on: 
"He's  a  rotten  hypocrite ;  but  then,  we  can  always 
pull  the  bung  out  of  these  Reform  movements 
that  way." 

"You  said  it  isn't  as  bad  for  me  as  it  seems," 
I  interrupte^ 

"Oh,  yes.  You're  to  be  on  the  ticket.  The  old 


28  THE   PLUM   TREE 

man's  going  to  send  you  to  the  legislature, — 
lower  house,  of  course." 

I  did  not  cheer  up.   An  assemblyman  got  only 
a  thousand  a  year. 

"The  pay  ain't  much,"  confessed  Buck,  "but 
there  ain't  nothing  to  do  except  vote  according  to 
order.    Then  there's  a  great  deal  to  be  picked 
ip  on  the  side, — the  old  man  understands  that 
I  others  have  got  to  live  besides  him.    Salaries  in 
politics  don't  cut  no  figure  nowadays,  anyhow, 
[t's  the  chance  the  place  gives  for  pick-ups." 

"At  first  I  flatly  refused,  but  Buck  pointed  out 
that  I  was  foolish  to  throw  away  the  benefits  sure 
to  come  through  the  "old  man's"  liking  for  me. 
"He'll  take  care  of  you,"  he  assured  me.  "He's 
got  you  booked  for  a  quick  rise."  My  poverty 
was  so  pressing  that  I  had  not  the  courage  to  re 
fuse,— -the  year  and  a  half  of  ferocious  struggle 
and  the  longing  to  marry  Betty  Crosby  had  com 
bined  to  break  my  spirit.  I  believe  it  is  Johnson 
who  says  the  worst  feature  of  genteel  poverty  is 
its  power  to  make  one  ridiculous.  I  don't  think 
so.  No;  its  worst  feature  is  its  power  to  make 
one  afraid. 


AT   THE   COURT   OF   A   SOVEREIGN          29 

That  night  I  told  my  mother  of  my  impending 
"honors."  We  were  in  the  dark  on  our  little 
front  porch.  She  was  silent,  and  presently  I 
thought  I  heard  her  suppressing  a  sigh.  "You 
don't  like  it,  mother?"  said  I. 
/  "No,  Harvey,  but — I  see  no  light  ahead  in 
any  other  direction,  ajad~I-guess~  one  should  al 
ways  steer  toward  what  light  there  is."  She 
stood  behind  my  chair,  put  her  hands  on  my 
shoulders,  and  rested  her  chin  lightly  on  the  top 
of  my  head.  "Besides,  I  can  trust  you.  What 
ever  direction  you  take,  you're  sure  to  win  in  the 
end." 

I  was  glad  it  was  dark.  An  hour  after  I  went 
to  bed  I  heard  some  one  stirring  in  the  house, — 
it  seemed  to  me  there  was  a  voice,  too.  I  rose 
and  went  into  the  hall,  and  so,  softly  to  my  moth 
er's  room.  Her  door  was  ajar.  She  was  near  the 
window,  kneeling  there  in  the  moonlight,  pray 
ing — for  me. 

I  had  not  been  long  in  the  legislature  before  I 
saw  that  my  position  was  even  more  contempti 
ble  than  I  anticipated.  So  contemptible,  indeed, 


30  THE   PLUM   TREE 

was  it  that,  had  I  not  been  away  from  home  and 
among  those  as  basely  situated  as  myself,  it 
would  have  been  intolerable,  —  a  convict  infinitely 
prefers  the  penitentiary  to  the  chain  gang.  Then, 
too,  there  was  consolation  in  the  fact  that  the 
people,  my  fellow  citizens,  in  their  stupidity  and 
ignorance  about  political  conditions,  did  not 
realize  what  public  office  had  come  to  mean. 
At  home  they  believed  what  the  machine-con 
trolled  newspapers  said  of  me  —  that  I  was  a 
"manly,  independent  young  man,"  that  I  was 
"making  a  vigorous  stand  for  what  was  honest  in 
'  public  affairs,"  that  I  was  the  "honorable  and  dis 
tinguished  son  of  an  honorable  and  distinguished 
father."  How  often  I  read  those  and  similar 
eulogies  of  young  men  just  starting  in  public 
life  !  And  is  it  not  really  amazing  that  the  people 
believe,  that  they  never  say  to  themselves  :  "But, 
if  he  were  actually  what  he  so  loudly  professes 
to  be,  how  could  he  have  got  public  office  from  a 


I  soon  gave  up  trying  to  fool  myself  into  im 
agining  I  was  the  servant  of  the  people  by  intro 
ducing  or  speaking  for  petty  little  popular  meas- 


AT   THE   COURT   OF  A   SOVEREIGN         31 

ures.  I  saw  clearly  that  graft  was  the  backbone, 
the  whole  skeleton  of  legislative  business,  and 
that  its  fleshly  cover  of  pretended  public  service 
could  be  seen  only  by  the  blind.  I  saw,  also,  that 
no  one  in  the  machine  of  either  party  had  any 
real  power.  The  state  boss  of  our  party,  United 
States  Senator  Dunkirk,  was  a  creature  and  ser 
vant  of  corporations.  Silliman,  the  state  boss  of 
the  opposition  party,  was  the  same,  but  got  less 
for  his  services  because  his  party  was  hopelessly 
in  the  minority  and  its  machine  could  be  useful 
only  as  a  sort  of  supplement  and  scapegoat. 

With  the  men  at  the  top,  Dunkirk  and  Silli 
man,  mere  lackeys,  I  saw  my  own  future  plainly 
enough.  I  saw  myself  crawling  on  year  after 
year, — crawling  one  of  two  roads.  Either  I 
should  become  a  political  scullion,  a  wretched 
party  hack,  despising  myself  and  despised  by 
those  who  used  me,  or  I  should  develop  into  a 
lackey's  lackey  or  a  plain  lackey,  lieutenant  of  a 
boss  or  a  boss,  so-called — a  derisive  name,  really, 
when  the  only  kind  of  boss-ship  open  was  head 
political  procurer  to  one  or  more  rich  corpora 
tions  or  groups  of  corporations.  I  felt  I  should 


32  THE   PLUM   TREE 

probably  become  a  scullion,  as  I  thought  I  had 
no  taste  or  instinct  for  business,  and  as  I  was 
developing  some  talent  for  "mixing,"  and  for 
dispensing  "hot  air"  from  the  stump. 

I  turned  these  things  over  and  over  in  my 
mind  with  an  energy  that  sprang  from  shame, 
from  the  knowledge  of  what  my  mother  would 
think  if  she  knew  the  truth  about  her  son,  and 
from  a  realization  that  I  was  no  nearer  marry 
ing  Betty  Crosby  than  before.  At  last  I  wrought 
myself  into  a  sullen  fury  beneath  a  calm  surface. 
The  lessons  in  self-restraint  and  self-hiding  I 
learned  in  that  first  of  my  two  years  as  assembly 
man  have  been  invaluable. 

When  I  entered  upon  my  second  and  last 
winter,  I  was  outwardly  as  serene  as — as  a  vol 
cano  on  the  verge  of  eruption. 


Ill 


SAYLER  "DRAWS  THE  LINE" 

In  February  the  railways  traversing  our  state 
sent  to  the  capitol  a  bill  that  had  been  drawn  by 
our  ablest  lawyers  and  reviewed  by  the  craftiest 
of  the  great  corporation  lawyers  of  New  York 
City.  Its  purpose,  most  shrewdly  and  slyly  con 
cealed,  was  to  exempt  the  railways  from  practi 
cally  all  taxation.  It  was  so  subtly  worded  that 
this  would  be  disclosed  only  when  the  com 
panies  should  be  brought  to  court  for  refusing 
to  pay  their  usual  share  of  the  taxes.  Such  meas 
ures  are  usually  "straddled"  through  a  legisla 
ture, — that  is,  neither  party  takes  the  responsi 
bility,  but  the  boss  of  each  machine  assigns  to 
vote  for  them  all  the  men  whose  seats  are  secure 
beyond  any  ordinary  assault  of  public  indigna 
tion.  In  this  case,  of  the  ninety-one  members  of 
the  lower  house,  thirty-two  were  assigned  by 
Dunkirk  and  seventeen  by  Silliman  to  make  up  a 
majority  with  three  to  spare. 

33 


34  THE   PLUM   TREE 

My  boss,  Dominick,  got  wind  that  Dunkirk 
and  Silliman  were  cutting  an  extra  melon  of  un 
common  size.  He  descended  upon  the  capitol  and 
served  notice  on  Dunkirk  that  the  eleven  Domi 
nick  men  assigned  to  vote  for  the  bill  would  vote 
against  it  unless  he  got  seven  thousand  dollars 
apiece  for  them, — seventy-seven  thousand  dol 
lars.,;  Dunkirk  needed  every  one  of  Dominick's 
men  to  make  up  his  portion  of  the  majority;  he 
yielded  after  trying  in  vain  to  reduce  the  price. 
All  Dominick  would  say  to  him  on  that  point,  so 
°I  heard  afterward,  was: 

"Every  day  you  put  me  off,  I  go  up  a  thousand 
dollars  a  head." 

We  who  were  to  be  voted  so  profitably  for 
Dunkirk,  Silliman,  Dominick,  and  the  railroads, 
learned  what  was  going  on, — Silliman  went  on  a 
"tear"  and  talked  too  much.  Nine  of  us,  not  in 
cluding  myself,  got  together  and  sent  Cassidy, 
member  from  the  second  Jackson  County  district, 
to  Dominick  to  plead  for  a  share.  I  happened  to 
be  with  him  in  the  Capital  City  Hotel  bar  when 
Cassidy  came  up,  and,  hemming  and  hawing,  ex 
plained  how  he  and  his  fellow  insurgents  felt. 


SAYLER   "DRAWS   THE   LINE"  35 

Dominick's  veins  seemed  cords  straining  to 
bind  down  a  demon  struggling  to  escape.  "It's 
back  to  the  bench  you  go,  Pat  Cassidy, — back  to 
the  bench  where  I  found  you,"  he  snarled,  with  a 
volley  of  profanity  and  sewage.  "I  don't  know 
nothing  about  this  here  bill  except  that  it's  for 
the  good  of  the  party.  Go  back  to  that  gang  of 
damned  wharf  rats,  and  tell  'em,  if  I  hear  another 
squeak,  I'll  put  'em  where  I  got  'em." 

Cassidy  shrank  away  with  a  furtive  glance  of 
envy  and  hate  at  me,  whom  Dominick  treated 
with  peculiar  consideration, — I  think  it  was  be 
cause  I  was  the  only  man  of  education  and  of  any 
pretensions  to  "family"  in  official  position  in 
his  machine.  He  used  to  like  to  class  himself  and 
me  together  as  "us  gentlemen,"  in  contrast  to 
"them  muckers,"  meaning  my  colleagues. 

Next  day,  just  before  the  voting  began,  Domi 
nick  seated  himself  at  the  front  of  the  governor's 
gallery, — the  only  person  in  it.  I  see  him  now  as 
he  looked  that  day, — black  and  heavy-jawed  and 
scowling,  leaning  forward  with  both  forearms 
on  the  railing,  and  his  big,  flat  chin  resting  on 


36  THE   PLUM   TREE 

his  upturned,  stubby  thumbs.  He  was  there  to  see 
that  each  of  us,  his  creatures,  dependent  abso 
lutely  upon  him  for  our  political  lives,  should 
vote  as  he  had  sold  us  in  block.  There  was  no 
chance  to  shirk  or  even  to  squirm.  As  the  roll- 
call  proceeded,  one  after  another,  seven  of  us, 
obeyed  that  will  frowning  from  the  gallery, — 
jumped  through  the  hoop  of  fire  under  the  quiv 
ering  lash.  I  was  eighth  on  the  roll. 

"Sayler!"    How   my  name   echoed   through 
that  horrible  silence! 

I  could  not  answer.  Gradually  every  face 
turned  toward  me, — I  could  see  them,  could  feel 
them,  and,  to  make  bad  enough  worse,  I  yielded 
to  an  imperious  fascination,  the  fascination  of 
that  incarnation  of  brute-power, — power  of  mus 
cle  and  power  of  will.  I  turned  my  eyes  upon 
the  amazed,  furious  eyes  of  my  master.  It  seemed 
to  me  that  his  lips  must  give  passage  to  the  oaths 
and  filth  swelling  beneath  his  chest,  and  seething 
behind  his  eyes. 

"Sayler !"  repeated  the  clerk  in  a  voice  that  ex 
ploded  within  me. 

"No !"  I  shouted, — not  in  answer  to  the  clerk, 


SAYLER   "DRAWS   THE   LINE"  37 

but  in  denial  of  that  insolent  master-to-dog  com 
mand  from  the  beast  in  the  gallery. 

The  look  in  his  eyes  changed  to  relief  and  con 
temptuous  approval.  There  was  a  murmur  of 
derision  from  my  fellow  members.  Then  I  re 
membered  that  a  negative  was,  at  that  stage  of 
the  bill,  a  vote  for  it, — I  had  done  just  the  reverse 
of  what  I  intended.  The  roll-call  went  on,  and  I 
sat  debating  with  myself.  Prudence,  inclination, 
the  natural  timidity  of  youth,  the  utter  futility  of 
opposition,  fear,  above  all  else,  fear, — these 
joined  in  bidding  me  let  my  vote  stand  as  cast. 
On  the  other  -side  stood  my  notion  of  self-respect. 
I  felt  I  must  then  and  there  and  for  ever  decide 
whether  I  was  a  thing  or  a  man.  Yet,  again  and 
again  I  riad  voted  for  measures  just  as  corrupt, 
— had  voted  for  them  with  no  protest  beyond  a 
cynical  shrug  and  a  wry  look.  Every  man,  even 
the  laxest,  if  he  is  to  continue  to  "count  as  one/' 
must  have  a  point  where  he  draws  the  line  be 
yond  which  he  will  not  go.  The  liar  must  have 
things  he  will  not  lie  about,  the  thief  things  he 
will  not  steal,  the  compromiser  things  he  will  not 
compromise,  the  practical  man  in  the  pulpit,  in 


38  THE  PLUM  TREE 

politics,  in  business,  in  the  professor's  chair,  or 
editorial  tribune,  things  he  will  not  sacrifice,  what 
ever  the  cost.  That  is  "practical  honor."  I  had 
reached  my  line  of  practical  honor,  my  line  be 
tween  possible  compromise  and  certain  demoral 
ization.  And  I  realized  it. 

When  the  roll-call  ended  I  rose,  and,  in  a  voice 
that  I  knew  was  firm  and  clear,  said :  "Mr. 
Speaker,  I  voted  in  the  negative  by  mistake.  I 
wish  my  vote  recorded  in  the  affirmative.  I  am 
against  the  bill." 

Amid  a  fearful  silence  I  took  my  seat.  With 
a  suddenness  that  made  me  leap,  a  wild  and  crazy 
assemblyman,  noted  as  the  crank  of  that  session, 
emitted  a  fantastic  yell  of  enthusiastic  approval. 
Again  there  was  that  silence ;  then  the  tension  of 
the  assembly,  floor  and  crowded  galleries,  burst 
in  a  storm  of  hysterical  laughter. 

I  wish  I  could  boast  how  brave  I  felt  as  I  re 
versed  my  vote,  how  indifferent  to  that  tempest 
of  mockery,  and  how  strong  as  I  went  forth  to 
meet  my  master  and  hear  my  death-warrant.  But 
I  can't,  in  honesty, — I'm  only  a  human  being,  not 
a  hero,  and  these  are  my  confessions,  not  my  pro- 


SAYLER   "DRAWS   THE   LINE"  39 

fessions.  So  I  must  relate  that,  though  the  voice 
that  requested  the  change  of  vote  was  calm  and 
courageous,  the  man  behind  it  was  agitated  and 
sick  with  dread.  There  may  be  those  who  have 
the  absolute  courage  some  men  boast, — if  not 
directly,  then  by  implication  in  despising  him 
who  shows  that  he  has  it  not.  For  myself,  I  must 
say  that  I  never  made  a  venture, — and  my  life 
has  been  a  succession  of  ventures,  often  with 
my  whole  stake  upon  the  table, — I  never  made  a 
venture  that  I  did  not  have  a  sickening  sensation 
at  the  heart.  My  courage,  if  it  can  be  called  by 
so  sounding  a  name,  has  been  in  daring  to  make 
the  throw  when  every  atom  of  me  was  shrieking, 
"You'll  lose !  You'll  be  ruined !" 

I  did  not  see  Dominick  until  after  supper.  I 
had  nerved  myself  for  a  scene, — indeed,  I  had 
been  hoping  he  would  insult  me.  When  one 
lacks  the  courage  boldly  to  advance  along  the 
perilous  course  his  intelligence  counsels,  he  is 
lucky  if  he  can  and  will  goad  some  one  into 
kicking  him  along  it  past  the  point  where  retreat 
is  possible.  Such  methods  of  advance  are  not 
dignified,  but  then,  is  life  dignified?  To  my  sur- 


40  THE   PLUM   TREE 

prise  and  alarm,  Dominick  refused  to  kick  me 
into  manhood.  He  had  been  paid,  and  the 
seventy-seven  thousand  dollars,  in  bills  of  large 
denomination,  were  warming  his  heart  from  the 
inner  pocket  of  his  waistcoat.  So  he  came  up  to 
me,  scowling,  but  friendly. 

"Why  didn't  you  tell  me  you  wanted  to  be  let 
off,  Harvey  ?"  he  said  reproachfully.  "I'd  'a'  done 
it.  Now,  damn  you,  you've  put  me  in  a  place 
where  I've  got  to  give  you  the  whip." 

To  flush  at  this  expression  from  Dominick 
was  a  hypocritical  refinement  of  sensitiveness. 
To  draw  myself  up  haughtily,  to  turn  on  my 
heel  and  walk  away, — that  was  the  silliness  of  a 
boy.  Still,  I  am  glad  I  did  both  those  absurd 
things.  When  I  told  my  mother  how  I  had 
ruined  myself  in  politics  she  began  to  cry, — and 
tears  were  not  her  habit.  Then  she  got  my 
father's  picture  and  kissed  it  and  talked  to  it 
about  me,  just  as  if  he  were  there  with  us;  and 
for  a  time  I  felt  that  I  was  of  heroic  stature. 

But,  as  the  days  passed,  with  no  laurels  in  the 
form  of  cases  and  fees,  and  as  clients  left  me 
through  fear  of  Dominick's  power,  I  shriveled 


SAYLER   "DRAWS   THE   LINE"  41 

back  to  human  size,  and  descended  from  my  ped 
estal.  From  the  ground-level  I  began  again  to 
look  about  the  matter-of-fact  world. 

I  saw  I  was  making  only  a  first  small  pay 
ment  on  the  heavy  price  for  the  right  to  say 
no,  for  the  right  to  be  free  to  break  with  any  man 
or  any  enterprise  that  menaced  my  self-owner 
ship.  That  right  I  felt  I  must  keep,  whatever  its 
cost.  Some  men  can,  or  think  they  can,  lend 
their  self-ownership  and  take  it  back  at  conve 
nience  ;  I  knew  I  was  not  of  them — and  let  none 
of  them  judge  me.  Especially  let  none  judge  me 
who  only  deludes  himself  that  he  owns  himself, 
who  has  sold  himself  all  his  life  long  for  salaries 
and  positions  or  for  wealth,  or  for  the  empty 
reputation  of  power  he  wields  only  on  another's 
sufferance. 

A  glance  about  me  was  enough  to  disclose  the 
chief  reason  why  so  many  men  had  surrendered 
the  inner  citadel  of  self-respect.  InJ;hejcrucial 
hour,  when  they  had.  had..lO-  choose  .between  sub 
servience  and  a  hard  battle  with  adversity,  forth 
from  their  hearts  had  issued  a  traitor  weakness, 
the  feeling  of  responsibility  to  wife  and  children, 


42  THE   PLUM   TREE 

and  this  traitor  had  easily  delivered  them  captive 
to  some  master  or  masters.  More,  or  less,  than 
human,  it  seemed  to  me,  was  the  courage  that 
could  make  successful  resistance  to  this  traitor, 
and  could  strike  down  and  drag  down  wife  and 
children.  "I  must  give  up  Elizabeth,"  I  said  to 
myself,  "for  her  own  sake  as  well  as  for  mine. 
Marry  her  I  must  not  until  I  am  established  se 
curely  in  freedom.  And  when  will  that  be  ?"  In 
my  mood  of  darkness  and  despair,  the  answer  to 
that  question  was  a  relentless,  "Never,  especially 
if  you  are  weighted  with  the  sense  of  obligation 
to  her,  of  her  wasting  her  youth  in  waiting  for 
you." 

I  wrote  her  all  that  was  in  my  mind.  "You 
must  forget  me,"  I  said,  "and  I  shall  forget  you 
— for  I  see  that  you  are  not  for  me." 

The  answer  came  by  telegraph — "Please  don't 
ever  again  hurt  me  in  that  way."  And  of  the  let 
ter  which  came  two  days  later  I  remember  clearly 
this  sentence :  "If  you  will  not  let  me  go  on  with 
you,  I  will  make  the  journey  alone." 

This  shook  me,  but  I  knew  only  too  well  how 
the  bright  and  beautiful  legions  of  the  romantic 


SAYLER   "DRAWS   THE   LINE"  43 

and  the  ideal  could  be  put  to  flight,  could  be 
hurled  headlong-  into  the  abyss  of  oblivion  by  the 
phalanxes  of  fact. 

"I  see  what  I  must  do,"  was  my  answer  to  her 
letter.  "And  I  shall  do  it.  Be  merciful  to  me, 
Elizabeth.  Do  not  tempt  me  to  a  worse  cow 
ardice  than  giving  you  up.  I  shall  not  write 
again." 

And  I  did  not.  Every  one  of  her  letters  was 
answered — sometimes,  I  remember,  I  wrote  to 
her  the  whole  night  through,  shading  my  window 
so  that  mother  could  not  from  her  window  see 
the  reflection  of  my  lamp's  light  on  the  ground 
and  become  anxious.  But  I  destroyed  those  long 
and  often  agonized  answers.  And  I  can  not  say 
whether  my  heart  was  the  heavier  in  the  months 
when  I  was  getting  her  letters,  to  which  I  dared 
not  reply,  or  in  those  succeeding  months  when 
her  small,  clear  handwriting  first  ceased  to  greet 
me  from  the  mail. 


IV 

THE  SCHOOL  OF  LIFE-AS-IT-IS 

A  day  or  so  after  I  lost  the  only  case  of  conse 
quence  I  had  had  in  more  than  a  year,  Buck 
Fessenden  came  into  my  office,  and,  after  dosing 
me  liberally  with  those  friendly  protestations 
and  assurances  which  please  even  when  they  do 
not  convince,  said :  "I  know  you  won't  give  me 

,  away,  Sayler,  and  I  can't  stand  it  any  longer  to 
watch  you  going  on  this  way.  Don't  you  see  the 

;old  man's  after  you  hammer  and  tongs?    He'll 
never  let  up.    You  won't  get  no  clients,  and,  if 

iyjDu  dp,  you_won't  win  no  cases. 

Those  last  five  wofdsj-spoHn  in  Buck's  most 
significant  manner,  revealed  what  my  modesty 
— or,  if  you  prefer,  my  stupidity — had  hidden 
from  me.  I  had  known  all  along  that  Dominick 
was  keeping  away  and  driving  away  clients ;  but 
I  had  not  suspected  his  creatures  on  the  bench. 
To  this  day,  after  all  these  years  of  use,  only 
with  the  greatest  reluctance  and  with  a  mor- 

44 


THE   SCHOOL  OF  LIFE-AS-IT-IS  45 

al  uneasiness  which  would  doubtless  amuse 
most  political  managers,  do  I  send  "suggestions" 
or  "intimations"  to  my  men  in  judicial  office — 
and  I  always  do  it,  and  always  have  done  it,  in 
directly.  And  I  feel  relieved  and  grateful  when 
my  judges,  eager  to  "serve  the  party,"  anticipate 
me  by  sending  me  a  reassuring  hint. 

I  did  not  let  Buck  see  into  my  mind.  "Non 
sense!"  I  pooh-poohed;  "I've  no  cause  to  com 
plain  of  lack  of  business;  but  even  if  I  had,  I'd 
not  blame  Dominick  or  any  one  else  but  myself." 
Then  I  gave  him  a  straight  but  good-humored 
look.  "Drop  it,  Buck,"  said  I.  "What  did  the 
old  man  send  you  to  me  for?  What  does  he 
want?" 

He  was  too  crafty  to  defend  an  indefensible 
position.  "I'll  admit  he  did  send  me,"  said  he 
with  a  grin,  "but  I  came  on  my  own  account, 
too.  Do  you  want  to  make  it  up  with  him? 
You  can  get  back  under  the  plum  tree  if  you'll 
say  the  word." 

I  could  see  my  mother,  as  I  had  seen  her  two 
hours  before  at  our  poor  midday  meal, — an  old, 
old  woman,  so  broken,  so  worn !  And  all  through 


46  THE   PLUM   TREE 

the  misery  this  Dominick  had  brought  upon  us. 
Before  I  could  control  myself  to  speak,  Buck 
burst  out,  a  look  of  alarm  in  his  face,  "Don't 
say  it,  Mr.  Sayler, — I  know, — I  know.  I  told 
him  it'd  be  no  use.  Honest,  he  ain't  as  bad  as  you 
think, — he  don't  know  no  better,  and  it's  because 
he  liked  and  still  likes  you  that  he  wants  you 
back."  He  leaned  across  the  desk  toward  me, 
in  his  earnestness, — and  I  could  not  doubt  his  sin 
cerity.  "Sayler,"  he  went  on,  "take  my  advice, 
get  out  of  the  state.  You  ain't  the  sort  that  gives 
in,  and  no  more  is  he.  You've  got  more  nerve 
than  any  other  man  I  know,  bar  none,  but  don't 
waste  it  on  a  fool  fight.  You  know  enough  about 
politics  to  know  what  you're  up  against." 
"Thank  you,"  said  I,  "but  I'll  stay  on." 
He  gave  over  trying  to  persuade  me.  "I  hope," 
said  he,  "you've  got  a  card  up  your  sleeve  that 
the  old  man  don't  know  about." 

I  made  some  vague  reply,  and  he  soon  went 
away.  I  felt  that  I  had  confirmed  his  belief  in 
my  fearlessness.  Yet,  if  he  could  have  looked 
into  my  mind,  how  he  would  have  laughed  at 
his  credulity!  Probably  he  would  have  pitied 


THE   SCHOOL   OF   LIFE-AS-IT-IS  47 

me,  too,  for  it  is  one  of  the  curious  facts  of  hu 
man  nature  that  men  are  amazed  and  even  dis 
gusted  whenever  they  see — in  others — the  weak 
nesses  that  are  universal.  I  doubt  not,  many  who 
read  these  memoirs  will  be  quite  honestly  Phari 
saical,  thanking  Heaven  that  they  are  not  touched 
with  any  of  my  infirmities. 

It  may  have  been  coincidence,  though  I  think 
not,  that,  a  few  days  after  Fessenden's  call,  a 
Reform  movement  against  Dominick  appeared 
upon  the  surface  of  Jackson  County  politics.  I 
thought,  at  the  time,  that  it  was  the  first  streak 
of  the  dawn  I  had  been  watching  for, — the  awa 
kening  of  the  sluggish  moral  sentiment  of  the 
rank  and  file  of  the  voters.  I  know  now  that  it 
was  merely  the  result  of  a  quarrel  among  the 
corporations  that  employed  Dominick.  He  had 
been  giving  the  largest  of  them,  Roebuck's  Uni 
versal  Gas  and  Electric  Company,  called  the 
Power  Trust,  more  than  its  proportional  share  of 
the  privileges  and  spoils.  The  others  had  pro 
tested  in  vain,  and  as  a  last  resort  had  ordered 
their  lawyers  to  organize  a  movement  to  "purify" 
Jackson  County,  Dominick's  stronghold. 


48  THE   PLUM   TREE 

I  did  not  then  know  it,  but  I  got  the  nomina 
tion  for  county  prosecutor  chiefly  because  none 
of  the  other  lawyers,  not  even  those  secretly  di 
recting  the  Reform  campaign,  was  brave  enough 
publicly  to  provoke  the  Power  Trust.  I  made  a 
house  to  house,  farm  to  farm,  man  to  man,  can 
vass.  We  had  the  secret  ballot,  and  I  was  elected. 
The  people  rarely  fail  to  respond  to  that  kind  of 
appeal  if  they  are  convinced  that  response  can  not 
possibly  hurt,  and  may  help,  their  pockets.  And, 
by  the  way,  those  occasional  responses,  signifi 
cant  neither  of  morality  nor  of  intelligence,  lead 
political  theorists  far  astray.  As  if  honor  or 
honesty  could  win  other  than  sporadic  and  more 
or  less  hypocritical  homage — practical  homage, 
I  mean — among  a  people  whose  permanent  ideal 
is  wealth,  no  matter  how  got  or  how  used.  That 
is  another  way  of  saying  that  the  chief  charac 
teristic  of  Americans  is  that  we  are  human 
and,  whatever  we  may  profess,  cherish  the  hu 
man  ideal  universal  in  a  world  where  want  is 
man's  wickedest  enemy  and  wealth  his  most 
winning  friend.  But  as  I  was  relating,  I  was 
elected,' and  my  majority,  on  the  face  of  the  re- 


THE   SCHOOL   OF   LIFE-AS-IT-IS  49 

turns,  was  between  ten  and  eleven  hundred.  It 
must  actually  have  been  many  thousands,  for 
never  before  had  Dominick  "doctored"  the  tally 
sheets  so  recklessly. 

Financially  I  was  now  on  my  way  to  the  sur 
face.  I  supposed  that  I  had  become  a  political 
personage  also.  Was  I  not  in  possession  of  the 
most  powerful  office  in  the  county  ?  I  was  aston 
ished  that  neither  Dominick  nor  any  other  mem 
ber  of  his  gang  made  the  slightest  effort  to  con 
ciliate  me  between  election  day  and  the  date  of  my 
taking  office.  I  did  succeed  in  forcing  from  reluc 
tant  grand  juries  indictments  against  a  few  of  the 
most  notorious,  but  least  important,  members  of 
the  gang;  and  I  got  one  conviction — which  was 
reversed  on  trial-errors  by  the  higher  court. 

The  truth  was  that  my  power  had  no  exist- 
nce.  Dominick  still  ruled,  through  the  judges 
and  the  newspapers.  The  press  was  silent  when 
'it  could  not  venture  to  deprecate  or  to  condemn 
rne. 

But  I  fought  on  almost  alone.  I  did  not  fail 
to  make  it  clear  to  the  people  why  I  was  not  suc 
ceeding,  and  what  a  sweep  there  must  be  before 


50  THE   PLUM   TREE 

Jackson  County  could  have  any  real  reform.  I 
made  an  even  more  vigorous  campaign  for  re 
election  than  I  had  made  four  years  before. 
The  farmers  stood  by  me  fairly  well,  but  the 
town  went  overwhelmingly  against  me.  Why? 
Because  I  was  "bad  for  business"  and,  if  re- 
elected,  would  be  still  worse.  The  corporations 
with  whose  law-breaking  I  interfered  were 
threatening  to  remove  their  plants  from  Pulaski, 
— that  would  have  meant  the  departure  of  thou 
sands  of  the  merchants'  best  customers,  and  the 
destruction  of  the  town's  prosperity.  I  think  the 
election  was  fairly  honest.  Dominick's  man  beat 
me  by  about  the  same  majority  by  which  I  had 
been  elected. 

"Bad  for  business!" — the  most  potent  of  po 
litical  slogans.  And  it  will  inevitably  result  some 

\  day  in  the  concentration  of  absolute  power,  polit- 
j  ical  and  all  other  kinds,  in  the  hands  of  the  few 

^  who  are  strongest  and  cleverest.  For  they  can 
1  make  the  people  bitterly  regret  and  speedily  re- 
/  pent  having  tried  to  correct  abuses ;  and  the  peo- 

\_ple,  to  save  their  dollars,  will  sacrifice  their  liber 
ty.    I  doubt  if  they  will,  in  our  time  at  least,  learn 


THE   SCHOOL   OF   LIFE-AS-IT-IS  51 

to  see  far  enough  to  realize  that  who  captures 
their  liberty  captures  them  and,  therefore,  their 
dollars  too. 

By  my  defeat  in  that  typical  contest  I  was  dis 
heartened,  embittered, — and  ruined.  For,  in  my 
enthusiasm  and  confidence  I  had  gone  deeply  into 
debt  for  the  expenses  of  the  Reform  campaign. 
At  midnight  of  election  day  I  descended  into  the 
black  cave  of  despair.  For  three  weeks  I  ex 
plored  it.  When  I  returned  to  the  surface,  I  was 
a  man,  ready  to  deal  with  men  on  the  terms  of 
human  nature.  I  had  learned  my  lesson. 

For  woman  the  cost  of  the  attainment  of 
womanhood's  maturity  is  the  beautiful,  the  di 
vine  freshness  of  girlhood.  For  man,  the  cost  of 
the  attainment  of  manhood's  full  strength  and 
power  is  equally  great,  and  equally  sad, — his 
divine  faith  in  human  nature,  his  divine  belief 
that  abstract  justice  and  right  and  truth  rule  the 
world. 

Even  now,  when  life  is  redeeming  some  of 
those  large  promises  to  pay  which  I  had  long  ago 
given  up  as  hopeless  bad  debts ;  even  now,  it  gives 
me  a  wrench  to  remember  the  cruelest  chapter  in 


52  THE  PLUM   TREE 

that  bitter  lesson.  So  certain  had  I  been  of  re 
election  that  I  had  arranged  to  go  to  Boston  the 
day  after  my  triumph  at  the  polls.  For  I  knew 
from  friends  of  the  Crosbys  in  Pulaski  that  Eliz 
abeth  was  still  unmarried,  was  not  engaged,  and 
upon  that  I  had  built  high  a  romantic  hope. 

I  made  up  my  mind  that  mother  and  I  must 
leave  Pulaski,  that  I  must  give  up  the  law  and 
must,  in  Chicago  or  Cleveland,  get  something 
to  do  that  would  bring  in  a  living  at  once.  Be 
fore  I  found  courage  to  tell  her  that  which 
would  blast  hopes  wrapped  round  and  rooted  in 
her  very  heart,  and,  fortunately,  before  I  had  to 
confess  to  her  the  debts  I  had  made,  Edward 
Ramsay  threw  me  a  life-line. 

He  came  bustling  into  my  office  one  after 
noon,  big  and  broad,  and  obviously  pleased  with 
himself,  and,  therefore,  with  the  world.  He  had 
hardly  changed  in  the  years  since  we  were  at 
Ann  Arbor  together.  He  had  kept  up  our  friend 
ship,  and  had  insisted  on  visiting  me  several 
times,  though  not  in  the  past  four  years,  which 
had  been  as  busy  for  him  as  for  me.  Latterly  his 


THE   SCHOOL   OF   LIFE-AS-IT-IS  53 

letters  urging  me  to  visit  him  at  their  great  coun 
try  place,  away  at  the  other  end  of  the  state,  had 
set  me  a  hard  task  of  inventing  excuses. 

"Well,  well !"  he  exclaimed,  shaking  my  hand 
violently  in  both  his.  "You  wouldn't  come  to  see 
me,  so  I've  come  to  you." 

I  tried  not  to  show  the  nervousness  this  an 
nouncement  stirred.  "I'm  afraid  you'll  find  our 
hospitality  rather  uncomfortable,"  was  all  I  said. 
Mother  and  I  had  not  spread  much  sail  to  our 
temporary  gust  of  prosperity;  and  when  the 
storm  began  to  gather,  she  straightway  close- 
reefed. 

"Thanks,  but  I  can't  stop  with  you  this  time," 
said  he.  "I'm  making  an  inspection  of  the  Power 
Trust's  properties,  and  I've  got  mother  and  sister 
along.  We're  living  in  the  private  car  the  com 
pany  gives  me  for  the  tour."  He  went  on  to  tell 
how,  since  his  father's  death,  he  had  been  forced 
into  responsibilities,  and  was,  among  many  other 
things,  a  member  of  the  Power  Trust's  executive 
committee. 

Soon  came  the  inevitable  question,  "And  how 
are  you  getting  on?" 


54  THE   PLUM   TREE 

"So  so,"  replied  I ;  "not  too  well,  just  at  the 
present.  I  was  beaten,  you  know,  and  have  to  go 
back  to  my  practice  in  January." 

"Wish  you  lived  in  my  part  of  the  state,"  said 
he.  "But  the  Ramsay  Company  hasn't  anything 
down  here."  He  reflected  a  moment,  then 
beamed.  "I  can  get  you  the  legal  business  of  the 
Power  Trust  if  you  want  it,"  he  said.  "Their 
lawyer  down  here  goes  on  the  bench,  you  know 
— he  was  on  the  ticket  that  won.  Roebuck  want 
ed  a  good,  safe,  first-class  man  on  the  bench  in 
this  circuit." 

But  he  added  nothing  more  about  the  Power 
Trust  vacancy  at  Pulaski.  True,  my  first  impulse 
was  that  I  couldn't  and  wouldn't  accept;  also,  I 
told  myself  it  was  absurd  to  imagine  they  would 
consider  me.  Still,  I  wished  to  hear,  and  his  fail 
ure  to  return  to  the  subject  settled  once  more  the 
clouds  his  coming  had  lifted  somewhat. 

Mother  was  not  well  enough  to  have  the  Ram- 
says  at  the  house  that  evening,  so  I  dined  with 
them  in  the  car.  Mrs.  Ramsay  was  the  same  sim 
ple,  silent,  ill-at-ease  person  I  had  first  met  at 
the  Ann  Arbor  commencement, — probably  the 


THE   SCHOOL   OF   LIFE-AS-IT-IS  55 

same  that  she  had  been  ever  since  her  husband's 
wealth  and  her  children's  infection  with  new 
fangled  ideas  had  forced  her  from  the  plain  ways 
of  her  youth.  I  liked  her,  but  I  was  not  so  well 
pleased  with  her  daughter.  Carlotta  was  then 
twenty-two,  had  abundant,  noticeably  nice  brown 
hair,  an  indifferent  skin,  pettish  lips,  and  restless 
eyes,  a  little  too  close  together, — a  spoiled  wilful 
young  woman,  taking  to  herself  the  deference 
that  had  been  paid  chiefly  to  her  wealth.  She 
treated  me  as  if  I  were  a  candidate  for  her  favor 
whom  she  was  testing  so  that  she  might  decide 
whether  she  would  be  graciously  pleased  to  toler 
ate  him. 

Usually,  superciliousness  has  not  disturbed 
me.  It  is  a  cheap  and  harmless  pleasure  of  cheap 
and  harmless  people.  But  just  at  that  time  my 
nerves  were  out  of  order,  and  Miss  Ramsay's 
airs  of  patronage  "got"  on  me.  I  proceeded  po 
litely  to  convey  to  her  the  impression  that  she 
did  not  attract  me,  that  I  did  not  think  her  worth 
while — this,  not  through  artful  design  of  inter 
esting  by  piquing,  but  simply  in  the  hope  of 
rasping  upon  her  as  she  was  rasping  upon  me. 


56  THE   PLUM   TREE 

When  I  saw  that  I  had  gained  my  point,  I  ig 
nored  her.  I  tried  to  talk  with  Ed,  then  with  his 
mother,  but  neither  would  interfere  between  me 
and  Carlotta.  I  had  to  talk  to  her  until  she  vol 
untarily  lapsed  into  offended  silence.  Then  Ed, 
to  save  the  evening  from  disaster,  began  dis 
cussing  with  me  the  fate  of  our  class-mates.  I 
saw  that  Carlotta  was  studying  me  curiously, — 
even  resentfully,  I  thought;  and  she  was  coldly 
polite  when  I  said  good  night. 

She  and  her  mother  called  on  my  mother  the 
next  morning.  "And  what  a  nice  girl  Miss 
Ramsay  is, — so  sensible,  so  intelligent,  and  so 
friendly !"  said  my  mother,  relating  the  incidents 
of  the  visit  in  minute  detail  when  I  went  home 
at  noon. 

"I  didn't  find  her  especially  friendly,"  said  I. 
Whereat  I  saw,  or  fancied  I  saw,  a  smile  deep 
down  in  her  eyes, — and  it  set  me  to  thinking. 

In  the  afternoon  Ed  looked  in  at  my  office  in 
the  court-house  to  say  good-by.  "But  first,  old 
man,  I  want  to  tell  you  I  got  that  place  for  you. 
I  thought  I  had  better  use  the  wire.  Old  Roebuck 
is  delighted, — telegraphed  me  to  close  the  ar- 


THE   SCHOOL   OF   LIFE-AS-IT-IS  57 

rangement  at  once, — congratulated  me  on  being 
able  to  get  you.  I  knew  it'd  be  so.  He  has  his 
eyes  skinned  for  bright  young  men, — all  those 
big  men  have.  Whenever  a  fellow,  especially  a 
bright  young  lawyer,  shows  signs  of  ability,  they 
scoop  him  in." 

"I  can't  believe  it,"  said  I,  dazed.  "I've  been 
fighting  him  for  four  years — hard." 

"That's  it!"  said  he.  "And  don't  you  fret 
about  its  being  a  case  of  trying  to  heap  coals  of 
fire  on  your  head.  Roebuck  don't  use  the  fire- 
shovel  for  that  sort  of  thing.  He's  snapping  you 
up  because  you've  shown  him  what  you  can  do. 
That's  the  way  to  get  on  nowadays,  they  tell  me. 
Whenever  the  fellows  on  top  find  the  chap,  espe 
cially  one  in  public  office,  who  makes  it  hot  for 
them,  they  hire  him.  Good  business  all  around." 

Thus,  so  suddenly  that  it  giddied  me,  I  was 
translated  from  failure  to  success,  from  pov 
erty  to  affluence,  from  the  most  harassing  anx 
iety  to  ease  and  security.  Two  months  before  I 
should  have  rejected  the  Power  Trust's  offer 
with  scorn,  and  should  have  gloried  in  my  act 
as  proof  of  superior  virtue.  But  in  those  crucial 


58  THE   PLUM   TREE 

two  months  I  had  been  apprentice  to  the  master 
whom  all  men  that  ever  come  to  anything  in  this 
world  must  first  serve.  I  had  reformed  my  line 
of  battle,  had  adjusted  it  to  the  lines  laid  down 
in  the  tactics  of  Life-as-it-is. 

Before  I  was  able  to  convince  myself  that  my 
'fortunes  had  really  changed,  Ed  Ramsay  tele 
graphed  me  to  call  on  him  in  Fredonia  on  busi 
ness  of  his  own.  It  proved  to  be  such  a  trifle  that 
I  began  to  puzzle  at  his  real  reason  for  sending 
for  me.  When  he  spun  that  trifle  out  over  ten 
days,  on  each  of  which  I  was  alone  with  Carlotta 
at  least  half  my  waking  hours,  I  thought  I  had 
the  clue  to  the  mystery.  I  saw  how  I  could  in 
crease  the  energy  of  his  new  enthusiasm  for  me, 
and,  also,  how  I  could  cool  it,  if  I  wished  to  be 
rash  and  foolish  and  to  tempt  fate  again. 

"Oh,  the  business  didn't  amount  to  much," 
was  my  answer  to  one  of  my  mother's  first  ques 
tions,  on  my  return.  She  smiled  peculiarly.  In 
spite  of  my  efforts,  the  red  came — at  least  I  felt 
red. 

"How  did  you  like  his  sister?"  she  went  on, 
again  with  that  fluttering  smile  in  the  eyes  only. 


THE   SCHOOL   OF   LIFE-AS-IT-IS  59 

"A  very  nice  girl,"  said  I,  in  anything  but  a 
natural  manner.  My  mother's  expression  teased 
me  into  adding :  "Don't  be  silly.  Nothing  of  that 
sort.  You  are  always  imagining  that  every  one 
shares  your  opinion  of  me.  She  isn't  likely  to  fall 
in  love  with  me.  Certainly  I  shan't  with  her." 

Mother's  silence  somehow  seemed  argumenta 
tive. 

"I  couldn't  marry  a  girl  for  her  money,"  I  re 
torted  to  it. 

"Of  course  not,"  rejoined  mother.  "But  there 
are  other  things  to  marry  for  besides  money,  or 
love, — other  things  more  sensible  than  either. 
For  instance,  there  are  the  principal  things, — 
home  and  children." 

I  was  listening  with  an  open  mind. 

"The  glamour  of  courtship  and  honeymoon 
passes,"  she  went  on.  "Then  comes  the  sober 
business  of  living, — your  career  and  your  home. 
The  woman's  part  in  both  is  better  played  if 
there  isn't  the  sort  of  love  that  is  exacting,  al 
ways  interfering  with  the  career,  and  making  the 
home-life  a  succession  of  ups  and  downs,  mostly 
downs." 


60  THE   PLUM   TREE 

"Carlotta  is  very  ambitious,"  said  I. 

"Ambitious  for  her  husband/'  replied  my 
mother,  "as  a  sensible  woman  should  be.  She 
appreciates  that  a  woman's  best  chance  for  big 
dividends  in  marriage  is  by  being  the  silent  part- 
ner  in  her  husband's  career.  She'll  be  very  do 
mestic  when  she  has  children.  I  saw  it  the  instant 
I  looked  at  her.  She  has  the  true  maternal  in 
stinct.  What  a  man  who's  going  to  amount  to 
something  needs  isn't  a  woman  to  be  taken  care 
of,  but  a  woman  to  take  care  of  him." 

She  said  no  more, — she  had  made  her  point; 
and,  when  she  had  done  that,  she  always  stopped. 

Within  a  month  Ed  Ramsay  sent  for  me  again, 
but  this  time  it  was  business  alone.  I  found  him 
in  a  panic,  like  a  man  facing  an  avalanche  and 
armed  only  with  a  shovel.  Dunkirk,  the  senior 
United  States  senator  for  our  state,  lived  at  Fre- 
donia.  He  had  seen  that,  by  tunneling  the 
Mesaba  Range,  a  profitable  railroad  between  Fre- 
donia  and  Chicago  could  be  built  that  would 
shorten  the  time  at  least  three  hours.  But  it 
would  take  away  about  half  the  carrying  busi 
ness  of  the  Ramsay  Company,  besides  seriously 


THE   SCHOOL   OF   LIFE-AS-IT-IS  61 

depreciating  the  Ramsay  interest  in  the  existing 
road.  "And,"  continued  Ed,  "the  old  scoundrel 
has  got  the  capital  practically  subscribed  in  New 
York.  The  people  here  are  hot  for  the  new  road. 
It'll  be  sure  to  carry  at  the  special  election,  next 
month.  He  has  the  governor  and  legislature 
in  his  vest  pocket,  so  they'll  put  through  the  char 
ter  next  winter." 

"I  don't  see  that  anything  can  be  done,"  said 
Ed's  lawyer,  old  Judge  Barclay,  who  was  at  the 
consultation.  "It  means  a  big  rake-off  for  Dun 
kirk.  RoJiticjs^jcm^ 

That's  natural  enough,  since  there  is  money  to  be 
made  out  of  it.  I  don't  see  how  those  in  politics 
that  don't  graft,  as  they  call  it,  are  any  better 
than  those  that  do.  Would  they  get  office  if  they 
didn't  help  on  the  jobs  of  the  grafters?  I  sup 
pose  we  might  buy  Dunkirk  off." 

"What  do  you  think,  Harvey?"  asked  Ed, 
looking  anxiously  at  me.  "We've  got  to  fight  the 
devil  with  fire,  you  know." 

I  shook  my  head.  "Buying  him  off  isn't 
fighting, — it's  surrender.  We  must  fight  him, — 
with  fire." 


62  THE   PLUM   TREE 

I  let  them  talk  themselves  out,  and  then  said, 
"Well,  I'll  take  it  to  bed  with  me.  Perhaps 
something  will  occur  to  me  that  can  be  worked 
up  into  a  scheme." 

In  fact,  I  had  already  thought  of  a  scheme,  but 
before  suggesting  it  I  wished  to  be  sure  it  was  as 
good  as  it  seemed.  Also,  there  was  a  fundamen 
tal  moral  obstacle, — the  road  would  be  a  public 
benefit ;  it  ought  to  be  built.  That  moral  problem 
caused  most  of  my  wakefulness  that  night,  simple 
though  the  solution  was  when  it  finally  came. 
The  first  thing  Ed  said  to  me,  as  we  faced  each 
other  alone  at  breakfast,  showed  me  how  well 
spent  those  hours  were. 

"About  this  business  of  the  new  road,"  said  he. 
"If  I  were  the  only  party  at  interest,  I'd  let  Dun 
kirk  go  ahead,  for  it's  undoubtedly  a  good  thing 
from  the  public  standpoint.  But  I've  got  to  con 
sider  the  interests  of  all  those  I'm  trustee  for, — 
the  other  share-holders  in  the  Ramsay  Company 
and  in  our  other  concerns  here." 

"Yes,"  replied  I,  "but  why  do  you  say  Dun 
kirk  intends  to  build  the  road  ?  Why  do  you  take 
that  for  granted?" 


THE   SCHOOL   OF   LIFE-AS-IT-IS  63 

"He's  all  ready  to  do  it,  and  it'd  be  a  money 
maker  from  the  start." 

"But/'  I  went  on,  "you  must  assume  that  he 
has  no  intention  of  building,  that  he  is  only  mak 
ing  an  elaborate  bluff.    How  do  you  know  but 
•    that  he  wants  to  get  this  right  of  way  and  char 
ter  so  that  he  can  blackmail  you  and  your  con- 
i  cerns,    not   merely   once,   but  year   after  year? 
}  You'd  gladly  pay  him  several  hundred  thousand 
(    a  year  not  to  use  his  charter  and  right  of  way, 
Shouldn't  you  ?" 

"I  never  thought  of  that !"  exclaimed  Ed.  "I 
believe  you're  right,  Harvey,  and  you've  taken  a 
weight  off  my  conscience.  There's  nothing  like 
a  good  lawyer  to  make  a  man  see  straight.  What 
an  infernal  hound  old  Dunkirk  is !" 

"And,"  I  went  on,  "if  he  should  build  the  road, 
what  would  he  do  with  it  ?  Why,  the  easiest  and 
biggest  source  of  profit  would  be  to  run  big  ex 
cursions  every  Saturday  and  Sunday,  especially 
Sunday,  into  Fredonia.  He'd  fill  the  place  every 
Sunday,  from  May  till  November,  with  roister 
ing  roughs  from  the  slums  of  Chicago.  How'd 
the  people  like  that?" 


64  THE   PLUM   TREE 

"He  wouldn't  dare/'  objected  Ramsay,  stup 
idly  insisting  on  leaning  backward  in  his  deter 
mination  to  stand  straight.  "He's  a  religious 
hypocrite.  He'd  be  afraid." 

"As  Deacon  Dunkirk  he  wouldn't  dare,"  I  re 
plied.  "But  as  the  Chicago  and  Fredonia  Short 
Line  he'd  dare  anything,  and  nobody  would 
blame  him  personally.  You  know  how  that  is." 

Ed  was  looking  at  me  in  dazed  admiration. 
"Then,"  I  went  on,  "there  are  the  retail  mer 
chants  of  Fredonia.  Has  it  ever  occurred  to  them, 
in  their  excitement  in  favor  of  this  road,  that  it'll 
ruin  them?  Where  will  the  shopping  be  done  if 
the  women  can  get  to  Chicago  in  two  hours  and 
a  half?" 

"You're  right,  you're  right!"  exclaimed  Ed, 
rising  to  pace  the  floor  in  his  agitation.  "Bully 
for  you,  Harvey !  We'll  show  the  people  that  the 
road'll  ruin  the  town  morally  and  financially." 

"But  you  must  come  out  in  favor  of  it,"  said 
I.  "We  mustn't  give  Dunkirk  the  argument  that 
you're  fighting  it  because  you'd  be  injured  by  it. 
No,  you  must  be  hot  for  the  road.  Perhaps  you 
might  give  out  that  you  were  considering  selling 


THE   SCHOOL   OF  LIFE-AS-IT-IS  65 

your  property  on  the  lake  front  to  a  company  that 
was  going  to  change  it  into  a  brewery  and  huge 
pleasure  park.  As  the  lake's  only  a  few  hundred 
yards  wide,  with  the  town  along  one  bank  and 
your  place  along  the  other,  why,  I  think  that'd 
rouse  the  people  to  their  peril." 

"That's  the  kind  of  fire  to  fight  the  devil  with," 
said  he,  laughing.  "I  don't  think  Mister  Senator 
Dunkirk  will  get  the  consent  of  Fredonia." 

"But  there's  the  legislature,"  said  I. 

His  face  fell.  "I'm  afraid  he'll  do  us  in  the 
end,  old  man." 

I  thought  not,  but  I  only  said,  "Well,  we've 
got  until  next  winter, — if  we  can  beat  him  here." 

Ed  insisted  that  I  must  stay  on  and  help  him  at 
the  delicate  task  of  reversing  the  current  of  Fre 
donia  sentiment.  My  share  of  the  work  was  im 
portant  enough,  but,  as  it  was  confined  entirely 
to  making  suggestions,  it  took  little  of  my  time. 
I  had  no  leisure,  however,  for  there  was  Carlotta 
to  look  after. 

When  it  was  all  over  and  she  had  told  Ed  and 
he  had  shaken  hands  with  her  and  had  kissed  me 


66  THE   PLUM   TREE 

and  had  otherwise  shown  the  chaotic  condition 
of  his  mind,  and  she  and  I  were  alone  again,  she 
said,  "How  did  it  happen  ?  I  don't  remember  that 
you  really  proposed  to  me.  Yet  we  certainly  are 
engaged." 

"We  certainly  are,"  said  I,  "and  that's  the  es 
sential  point,  isn't  it?" 

"Yes,"  she  admitted,  "but,—"  and  she  looked 
mystified. 

"We  drifted,"  I  suggested. 

She  glanced  at  me  with  a  smile  that  was  an 
enigma.  "Yes — we  just  drifted.  Why  do  you 
look  at  me  so  queerly?" 

"I  was  just  going  to  ask  you  that  same  ques 
tion,"  said  I  by  way  of  evasion. 

Then  we  both  fell  to  thinking,  and  after  a  long 
time  she  roused  herself  to  say,  "But  we  shall  be 
very  happy.  I  am  so  fond  of  you.  And  you  are 
going  to  be  a  great  man  and  you  do  so  look  it, 
even  if  you  aren't  tall  and  fair,  as  I  always 
thought  the  man  I  married  would  be.  Don't  look 
at  me  like  that.  Your  eyes  are  strange  enough 
when  you  are  smiling;  but  when  you — I  often 
wonder  what  you're  so  sad  about." 


THE   SCHOOL   OF  LIFE-AS-IT-IS  67 

"Have  you  ever  seen  a  grown  person's  face 
that  wasn't  sad  in  repose?"  I  asked,  eager  to  shift 
from  the  particular  to  the  general. 

"A  few  idiots  or  near  idiots,"  she  replied  with 
a  laugh.  Thereafter  we  talked  of  the  future  and 
let  the  past  sleep  in  its  uncovered  coffin. 


A  GOOD  MAN  AND  HIS  WOES 

After  Ed  and  I  had  carried  the  Fredonia  elec 
tion  against  Dunkirk's  road,  we  went  fishing  with 
Roebuck  in  the  northern  Wisconsin  woods.  I  had 
two  weeks,  two  uninterrupted  weeks,  in  which  to 
impress  myself  upon  him ;  besides,  there  was  Ed, 
who  related  in  tedious  but  effective  detail,  on  the 
slightest  provocation,  the  achievements  that  had 
made  him  my  devoted  admirer.  So,  when  I  went 
to  visit  Roebuck,  in  June,  at  his  house  near  Chi 
cago,  he  was  ready  to  listen  to  me  in  the  proper 
spirit. 

I  soon  drew  him  on  to  tell  of  his  troubles  with 
Dunkirk — how  the  Senator  was  gouging  him  and 
every  big  corporation  doing  business  in  the  state. 
"I've  been  loyal  to  the  party  for  forty  years," 
said  he  bitterly,  "yet,  if  I  had  been  on  the  other 
side  it  couldn't  cost  me  more  to  do  business.  I 
have  to  pay  enough  here,  heaven  knows.  But  it 
costs  me  more  in  your  state, — with  your  man 

68 


A   GOOD   MAN   AND   HIS   WOES  69 

Dunkirk."  His  white  face  grew  pink  with  anger. 
"It's  monstrous !  Yet  you  should  have  heard  him 
address  my  Sunday-school  scholars  at  the  last  an 
nual  outing  I  gave  them.  What  an  evidence  of 
the  power  of  religion  it  is  that  such  wretches  as 
he  pay  the  tribute  of  hypocrisy  to  it !" 

His  business  and  his  religion  were  Roebuck's 
two  absorbing  passions, — religion  rapidly  pre 
dominating  as  he  drew  further  away  from  sixty. 

"Why  do  you  endure  this  blackmailing,  Mr. 
Roebuck?"  I  asked.  "He  is  growing  steadily 


worse." 


/^  "He  is  certainly  more  rapacious  than  he  was 

/ten  years  ago,"  Roebuck  admitted.    "Our  virtues 

/  or  our  vices,   whichever  we   give  the   stronger 

hold  on  us,  become  more  marked  as  we  approach 

I    Judgment.  When  we  finally  go,  we  are  prepared 

\  for  the  place  that  has  been  prepared  for  us." 

V    "But  why  do  you  put  up  with  his  impudence?" 

"What  can  we  do  ?  He  has  political  power  and 

is  our  only  protection  against  the  people.    They 

f    have  been  inflamed  with  absurd  notions  about 

\    their  rights.    They  are  filled  with  envy  and  sus- 

^  picion  of  the  rich.  They  have  passed  laws  to  ham- 


70  THE  PLUM   TREE 

per  us  in  developing  the  country,  and  want  to 
pass  more  and  worse  laws.  So  we  must  either 
go  out  of  business  and  let  the  talents  God  has 
given  us  lie  idle  in  a  napkin,  or  pay  the  Dunkirks 
to  prevent  the  people  from  having  their  ignorant 
wicked  way,  and  destroying  us  and  themselves. 
For  how  would  they  get  work  if  we  didn't  pro 
vide  it  for  them  ?" 

,"A  miserable  makeshift  system,"  said  I,  hark 
ing  back  to  Dunkirk  and  his  blackmailing,  for  I 
was  not  just  then  in  the  mood  to  amuse  myself 
with  the  contortions  of  Roebuck's  flexible  and 
fantastic  "moral  sense." 

"I've  been  troubled  in  conscience  a  great  deal, 
Harvey,  a  great  deal,  about  the  morality  of  what 
/we  business  men  are  forced  to  do.  I  hope — indeed 
I  feel — that  we  are  justified  in  protecting  our 
property  in  the  only  way  open  to  us.  The  devil 
must  be  fought  with  fire,  you  know." 

"How  much  did  Dunkirk  rob  you  of  last 
year?"  I  asked. 

"Nearly  three  hundred  thousand  dollars,"  he 
said,  and  his  expression  suggested  that  each  dol 
lar  had  been  separated  from  him  with  as  great 


A   GOOD    MAN   AND   HIS   WOES  71 

agony  as  if  it  had  been  so  much  flesh  pinched 
from  his  body.  "There  was  Dominick,  besides, 
and  a  lot  of  infamous  strike-bills  to  be  quieted. 
It  cost  five  hundred  thousand  dollars  in  all — in 
your  state  alone.  And  we  didn't  ask  a  single  bit 
of  new  legislation.  All  the  money  was  paid  just 
to  escape  persecution  under  those  alleged  laws! 
Yet  they  call  this  a  free  country !  When  I  think 
of  the  martyrdom — yes,  the  mental  and  moral 
martyrdom,  of  the  men  who  have  made  this  coun 
try —  What  are  the  few  millions  a  man  may 
amass,  in  compensation  for  what  he  has  to  en 
dure?  Why,  Sayler,  I've  not  the  slightest  doubt 
you  could  find  well-meaning,  yes,  really  honest, 
God-fearing  people,  who  would  tell  you  I  am  a 
scoundrel!  I  have  read  sermons,  delivered  from 
pulpits  against  me !  Sermons  from  pulpits!" 

"\  have  thought  out  a  plan,"  said  I,  after  a  mo 
ment's  silent  and  shocked  contemplation  of  this 
'deplorable  state  of  affairs,  "a  plan  to  end  Dun 
kirk  and  cheapen  the  cost  of  political  business." 

At  "cheapen  the  cost"  his  big  ears  twitched  as 
if  they  had  been  tickled. 

"You  can't  expect  to  get  what  you  need  fof 


72  THE   PLUM   TREE 

nothing,"  I  continued,   "in  the  present  state  of 
public  opinion.    But  I'm  sure  I  could  reduce  ex 
penses  by  half — at  least  half." 
I  had  his  undivided  attention. 
"It  is  patently  absurd,"  I  went  on,  "that  you 
who  finance  politics  and  keep  in  funds  these  fel 
lows  of  both  machines  should  let  them  treat  you 
as  if  you  were  their  servants.    Why  don't  you 
put  them   in  their  place,   servants   at  servants' 
wages  ?" 

"But  I've  no  time  to  go  into  politics, — and  I 
don't  know  anything  about  it — don't  want  to 
know.  It's  a  low  business, — ignorance,  corrup 
tion,  filthiness." 

"Take  Dunkirk,  for  example,"  I  pushed  on. 
"Jlis  lieutenants  and  heelers  hate  him  because  he 
doesn't  divide  squarely.    The  only  factor  in  his 
.^jpower  is  the  rank  and  file  of  the  voters  of  our 
\  party.     They,    I'm    convinced,    are   pretty   well 
\aware  of  his  hypocrisy, — but  it  doesn't  matter 
fnuch  what  they  think.  They  vote  lik<e.,sh€ep  and 
accept  whatever  leaders  and  candidates  our  ma 
chine  gives  them.  They  are  almost  stone-blind  in 
their  partizanship  and  they  can  always  be  fooled 


A  GOOD   MAN   AND   HIS   WOES  73 

up  to  the  necessary  point.  And  we  can  fool  them 
ourselves,  if  we  go  about  it  right,  just  as  well  as 
Dunkirk  does  it  for  hire.'* 

"But  Dunkirk  is  their  man,  isn't  he?"  he  sug 
gested. 

"Any  man  is  their  man  whom  you  choose  to 
give  them,"  replied  I.  "And  don't  you  give  them 
Dunkirk  ?  He  takes  the  money  from  the  big  busi 
ness  interests,  and  with  it  hires  the  men  to  sit  in 
the  legislature  and  finances  the  machine  through 
out  the  state.  It  takes  big  money  to  run  a  politi 
cal  machine.  His  power  belongs  to  you  people, 
to  a  dozen  of  you,  and  you  can  take  it  away  from 
him;  his  popularity  belongs  to  the  party,  and  it 
would  cheer  just  as  loudly  for  any  other  man  who 
wore  the  party  uniform." 

"I  see,"  he  said  reflectively;  "the  machine  rules 
the  party,  and  money  rules  the  machine,  and 
we  supply  the  money  and  don't  get  the  benefit. 
It's  as  if  I  let  my  wife  or  one  of  my  employes 
run  my  property." 

"Much  like  that,"  I  answered.  "Now,  why 
shouldn't  you  finance  the  machine  directly  and  do 
away  with  Dunkirk,  who  takes  as  his  own  wages 


74  THE   PLUM   TREE 

about  half  what  you  give  him?  He  takes  it  and 
wastes  it  in  stock  speculations, — gambling  with 
your  hard-earned  wealth,  gambling  it  away  cheer 
fully,  because  he  feels  that  you  people  will  always 
give  him  more." 

"What  do  you  propose?"  he  asked;  and  I  could 
see  that  *his  acute  business  mind  was  ready  to 
pounce  upon  my  scheme  and  search  it  hopefully 
if  mercilessly. 

"A  secret,  absolutely  secret,  combine  of  a  dozen 
of  the  big  corporations  of  my  state, — those  .that 
make  the  bulk  of  the  political  business, — the  com 
bine  to  be  under  the  management  of  some  man 
whom  they  trust  and  whose  interests  are  business, 
not  political." 

"He  would  have  enormous  power,"  said  Roe 
buck. 

I  knew  that  he  would  point  first  and  straight 
at  that  phase  of  my  scheme,  no  matter  how  sub 
tly  I  might  disguise  it.  So  I  had  pushed  it  into 
his  face  and  had  all  but  pointed  at  it  myself  so  that 
I  might  explain  it  away.  "Power  ?"  said  I.  "How 
do  you  make  that  out  ?  Any  member  of  the  com 
bine  that  is  dissatisfied  can  withdraw  at  any  time 


A   GOOD   MAN   AND   HIS   WOES  75 

and  go  back  to  the  old  way  of  doing-  business.  Be 
sides,  the  manager  won't  dare  appear  in  it  at  all, 
— he'll  have  to  hide  himself  from  the  people  and 
from  the  politicians,  behind  some  popular  figure 
head.  There's  another  advantage  that  mustn't  be 
overlooked.  Dunkirk  and  these  other  demagogues 
who  bleed  you  are  inflaming  public  sentiment 
more  and  more  against  you  big  corporations, — 
that's  their  way  of  frightening  you  into  yielding 
to  their  demands.  Under  the  new  plan  their 
demagoguery  would  cease.  ,Ikiiilt-^QU_think  it's 
high  timp^Jnr  th£_lparlfrs  nf  commerce  and  in 
dustry  to combine_inteilig.erilly-  -  -against  dema 
goguery  ?  Don't  you  think  they  have  cringed  be 
fore  it,  and  have  financed  and  fostered  it  too 
long?" 

This  argument,  which  I  had  reserved  for  the 
last,  had  all  the  effect  I  anticipated.  He  sat  rub 
bing  his  broad,  bald  forehead,  twisting  his  white 
whiskers  and  muttering  to  himself.  Presently  he 
asked,  "When  are  you  and  Lottie  Ramsay  going 
to  be  married?" 

"In  the  fall,"  said  I.   "In  about  three  months." 
"Well,  we'll  talk  this  over  again — after  you 


76  THE   PLUM   TREE 

are  married  and  settled.  If  you  had  the  substan 
tial  interests  to  give  you  the  steadiness  and  bal 
last,  I  think  you'd  be  the  very  man  for  your 
scheme.  Yes,  something — some  such  thing  as 
you  suggest — must  be  done  to  stop  the  poisoning 
of  public  opinion  against  the  country's  best  and 
strongest  men.  The  political  jdep_artment_  of  the 
business  interests  ought  to  be  as  thoroughly  or 
ganized  as  the  other  departments  are. .  Come  to 
me  again  after  you're  married." 

I  saw  that  his  mind  was  fixed,  that  he  would 
be  unable  to  trust  me  until  I  was  of  his  class,  of 
the  aristocracy  of  corpulent  corporate  persons.  I 
went  away  much  downcast ;  but,  two  weeks  after 
ward  he  telegraphed  for  me,  and  when  I  came  he 
at  once  brought  up  the  subject  of  the  combine. 

"Go  ahead  with  it,"  he  said.  "I've  been  think 
ing  it  over  and  talking  it  over.  We  shall  need 
only  nine  others  besides  myself  and  you.  You 
represent  the  Ramsay  interest." 

He  equipped  me  with  the  necessary  letters  of 
introduction  and  sent  me  forth  on  a  tour  of  my 
state.  When  it  was  ended,  my  "combine"  was 
formed.  And  /  was  the  combine, — was  master  of 


A   GOOD   MAN   AND    HIS   WOES  7? 

this  political  blind  pool.  I  had  taken  the  first,  the 
hardest  step,  toward  the  realization  of  my  dream 
of  real  political  power, — to  become  an  unbossed 
boss,  not  the  agent  and  servant  of  Plutocracy  or 
Partizanship,  but  using  both  to  further  my  own 
purposes  and  plans. 

I  had  thus  laid  out  for  myself  the  difficult  feat 
of  controlling  two  fiery  steeds.  Difficult,  but  not 
impossible,  if  I  should  develop  skill  as  a  driver — 
for  the  skilful  driver  has  a  hand  so  light  that  his 
horses  fancy  they  are  going  their  own  road  at 
their  own  gait. 


VI 

MISS  RAMSAY  REVOLTS 

The  last  remark  Roebuck  had  made  to  me — 
on  his  doorstep,  as  I  was  starting  on  my  mission 
— was :  "Can't  you  and  Lottie  hurry  up  that  mar 
riage  of  yours  ?  You  ought  to  get  it  over  and  out 
of  the  way."  When  I  returned  home  with  my 
mission  accomplished,  the  first  remark  my  mother 
made  after  our  greeting  was:  "Harvey,  I  wish 
you  and  Lottie  were  going  to  marry  a  little 
sooner." 

A  note  in  her  voice  made  me  look  swiftly  at 
her,  and  then,  without  a  word,  I  was  on  my  knees, 
my  face  in  her  lap  and  she  stroking  my  head.  "I 
feel  that  I'm  going  to — to  your  father,  dear,"  she 
said. 

I  heard  and  I  thought  I  realized ;  but  I  did  not. 
Who,  feeling  upon  him  the  living  hand  of  love, 
was  ever  able  to  imagine  that  hand  other  than 
alive?  But  her  look  of  illness,  of  utter  exhaus 
tion, — that  I  understood  and  suffered  for.  "You 

78 


MISS    RAMSAY   REVOLTS  79 

must  rest,"  said  I;  "you  must  sit  quiet  and  be 
waited  on  until  you  are  strong  again." 

"Yes,  I  will  rest,"  she  answered,  "as  soon  as 
my  boy  is  settled." 

That  very  day  I  wrote  Carlotta  telling  her 
about  mother's  health  and  asking  her  to  change 
the  date  of  our  wedding  to  the  first  week  in  Au 
gust,  then  just  under  a  month  away.  She  tele 
graphed  me  to  come  and  talk  it  over. 

She  was  at  the  station  in  her  phaeton  to  meet 
me.  We  had  not  driven  far  before  I  felt  and  saw 
that  she  was  intensely  irritated  against  me.  As  I 
unburdened  my  mind  of  my  anxieties  about 
mother,  she  listened  coldly.  And  I  had  to  wait  a 
long  time  before  I  got  her  answer,  in  a  strained 
voice  and  with  averted  eyes:  "Of  course,  I'm 
sorry  your  mother  isn't  well,  but  I  can't  get  ready 
that  soon." 

It  was  not  her  words  that  exasperated  me ;  the 
lightning  of  speech  from  the  storm-clouds  of 
anger  tends  to  clear  the  air.  It  was  her  expres 
sion. 

Never  have  I  known  any  one  who  could  con 
centrate  into  brows  and  eyes  and  chin  and  lips 


8o  THE   PLUM   TREE 

more  of  that  sullen  and  aggressive  obstinacy 
which  is  the  climax  of  provocativeness.  Pa 
tience,  in  thought  at  least,  with  refusal  has  not 
been  one  of  my  virtues.  This  refusal  of  hers,  this 
denial  of  happiness  to  one  who  had  deserved  so 
much  and  had  received  so  little,  set  temper  to 
working  in  me  like  a  quick  poison.  But  I  was 
silent,  not  so  much  from  prudence  as  from  ina 
bility  to  find  adequate  words. 

"I  can't  do  it,"  repeated  Carlotta,  "and  I 
won't."  She  made  it  clear  that  she  meant  the 
"won't," — that  she  was  bent  upon  a  quarrel. 

But  in  my  struggle  to  train  those  stanchest  of 
servants  and  maddest  of  masters,  the  passions,  I 
had  got  at  least  far  enough  always  to  choose  both 
the  time  and  the  ground  of  a  quarrel.  So  I  said : 
"Very  well,  Carlotta.  Then,  that  is  settled."  And 
with  an  air  sufficiently  deceptive  to  pass  muster 
before  angry  eyes,  I  proceeded  to  talk  of  indiffer 
ent  matters. 

As  I  sat  beside  her,  my  temper  glowering  in 
the  straining  leash,  I  revolved  her  conduct  and 
tried  to  puzzle  out  its  meaning.  It  is  clear, 
thought  I,  that  she  does  not  care  for  me  as  people 


MISS   RAMSAY   REVOLTS  81 

about  to  marry  usually  profess  to  care.  Then, 
does  she  wish  to  break  the  engagement  ? 

That  tamed  my  anger  instantly. 

Yes,  I  thought  on,  she  wishes  to  be  free — to 
free  me.  And,  as  my  combine  is  formed  and  my 
career  well  advanced  in  the  way  to  being  estab 
lished,  what  reason  is  there  for  trying  to  prevent 
her  from  freeing  herself  ?  None — for  I  can  easily 
explain  the  situation  to  mother.  "Yes,"  I  con 
cluded,  "you  can  avoid  a  quarrel,  can  remain 
friends  with  Carlotta,  can  give  and  get  freedom." 
What  had  changed  her?  I  did  not  know;  I  did 
not  waste  time  in  puzzling ;  I  did  not  tempt  fate 
by  asking.  "You  are  poor,  she  is  rich,"  I  remind 
ed  myself.  "That  makes  it  impossible  for  you 
to  hesitate.  You  must  give  her  no  excuse  for 
thinking  you  lack  pride." 

Thus  I  reasoned  and  planned,  my  temper  back 
in  its  kennel  and  peaceful  as  a  sheep.  That  even 
ing  I  avoided  being  alone  with  her;  just  as  I  was 
debating  how  to  announce  that  I  must  be  leaving 
by  the  first  train  in  the  morning  a  telegram  came 
from  Roebuck  calling  me  to  Chicago  at  once. 
When  we  were  all  going  to  bed,  I  said  to  Mrs, 


82  THE   PLUM   TREE 

Ramsay :  "I  shall  see  you  and  Ed  in  the  morning, 
but" — to  Carlotta — "you  don't  get  up  so  early. 
I'll  say  good-by  now," — this  in  the  friendliest 
possible  way. 

I  was  conscious  of  Mrs.  Ramsay's  look  of  won 
der  and  anxiety ;  of  Ed's  wild  stare  from  Carlotta 
to  me  and  back  again  at  her.  She  bit  her  lip  and 
her  voice  was  unsteady  as  she  said :  "Oh,  no, 
Harvey.  I'll  be  up."  There  was  a  certain  meek 
ness  in  her  tone  which  would  probably  have  de 
lighted  me  had  I  been  what  is  usually  called 
"masterful." 

When  I  came  down  at  seven  o'clock  after  an 
unquiet  night,  Carlotta  was  lying  in  wait  for  me, 
took  me  into  the  parlor  and  shut  the  door.  "What 
do  you  mean?"  she  demanded,  facing  me  with 
something  of  her  wonted  imperiousness. 

"Mean?"  said  I,  for  once  feeling  no  resentment 
at  her  manner. 

"By  leaving — this  way,"  she  explained  with 
impatience. 

"You  heard  Mr.  Roebuck's  telegram,"  said  I. 

"You  are  angry  with  me,"  she  persisted. 

"No,  Carlotta,"  said  I.   "I  was,  but  I  am  not. 


MISS   RAMSAY   REVOLTS  83 

As  soon  as  I  saw  what  you  wished,  I  was  grate 
ful,  not  angry." 

"What  did  I  wish?" 

"To  let  me  know  as  gently  and  kindly  as  you 
could  that  you  purposed  to  end  our  engagement. 
And  I  guess  you  are  right.  We  do  not  seem  to 
care  for  each  other  as  we  ought  if  we — " 

"You  misunderstood  me,"  she  said,  pale  and 
with  flashing  eyes,  and  in  such  a  struggle  with 
her  emotions  that  she  could  say  no  more. 

If  I  had  not  seen  that  only  her  pride  and  her 
vanity  were  engaged  in  the  struggle,  and  her 
heart  not  at  all,  I  think  I  should  have  abandoned 
my  comfortable  self-deception  that  my  own  pride 
forbade  discussion  with  her.  As  it  was,  I  was  able 
to  say:  "Don't  try  to  spare  me,  Carlotta,  I'm 
glad  you  had  the  courage  and  the  good  sense  not 
to  let  us  both  drift  into  irrevocable  folly.  I  thank 
you."  I  opened  the  door  into  the  hall.  "Let  us 
talk  no  more  about  it.  We  could  say  to  each  other 
only  the  things  that  sting  or  the  things  that  stab. 
Let  us  be  friends.  You  must  give  me  your  friend 
ship,  at  least."  I  took  her  hand. 

She  looked  strangely  at  me.    "You  want  me 


84  THE   PLUM   TREE 

to  humble  myself,  to  crawl  at  your  feet  and  beg 
your  pardon,"  said  she  between  her  teeth.  "But 
I  shan't."  She  snatched  away  her  hand  and  threw 
back  her  head. 

"I  wish  nothing  but  what  is  best  for  us  both," 
said  I.  "But  let  us  not  talk  of  it  now — when 
neither  of  us  is  calm." 

"You  don't  care  for  me!"  she  cried. 

"Do  you  love  me?"  I  rejoined. 

Her  eyes  shifted.  I  waited  for  her  reply  and, 
when  it  did  not  come,  I  said:  "Let  us  go  to 
breakfast." 

"I'll  not  go  in  just  now,"  she  answered,  in  a 
quiet  tone,  a  sudden  and  strange  shift  from  that 
of  the  moment  before.  And  she  let  me  take  her 
hand,  echoed  my  good-by,  and  made  no  further 
attempt  to  detain  me. 

That  was  a  gloomy  breakfast  despite  my  ef 
forts  to  make  my  own  seeming  of  good-humor 
permeate  to  the  others.  Mrs.  Ramsay  hid  a  som 
ber  face  behind  the  coffee-urn;  Ed  ate  furiously, 
noisily,  choking  every  now  and  then.  He  drove 
me  to  the  station;  his  whole  body  was  probably 
as  damp  from  his  emotions  as  were  his  eyes  and 


MISS   RAMSAY   REVOLTS  85 

his  big  friendly  hand.  The  train  got  under  way; 
I  drew  a  long  breath.   I  was  free. 

But  somehow  freedom  did  not  taste  as  I  had 
anticipated.  Though  I  reminded  myself  that  I 
had  acted  as  any  man  with  pride  and  self-respect 
would  have  acted  in  such  delicate  circumstances, 
and  though  I  knew  that  Carlotta  was  no  more  in 
love  with  me  than  I  was  with  her,  this  end  to  our 
engagement  seemed  even  more  humiliating  to  me 
than  its  beginning  had  seemed.  It  was  one  more 
instance  of  that  wretched  fatality  which  has  pur 
sued  me  through  life,  which  has  made  every  one 
of  my  triumphs  come  to  me  in  mourning  robes 
and  with  a  gruesome  face.  In  the  glittering  array 
of  "prizes"  that  tempts  man  to  make  a  beast  and 
a  fool  of  himself  in  the  gladiatorial  show  called 
Life,  the  sorriest,  the  most  ironic,  is  the  grand 
prize,  Victory. 

The  parlor  car  was  crowded ;  its  only  untaken 
seat  was  in  the  smoking  compartment,  which 
had  four  other  occupants,  deep  in  a  game  of 
poker.  Three  of  them  were  types  of  common 
place,  prosperous  Americans;  the  fourth  could 


86  THE   PLUM   TREE 

not  be  so  easily  classed  and,  therefore,  interested 
me — especially  as  I  was  in  the  mood  to  welcome 
anything  that  would  crowd  to  the  background  my 
far  from  agreeable  thoughts. 

The  others  called  him  "Doc,"  or  Woodruff. 
As  they  played,  they  drank  from  flasks  produced 
by  each  in  turn.  Doc  drank  with  the  others,  and 
deeper  than  any  of  them.  They  talked  more  and 
more,  he  less  and  less,  until  finally  he  interrupted 
their  noisy  volubility  only  when  the  game  com 
pelled.  I  saw  that  he  was  one  of  those  rare  men 
upon  whom  amiable  conversation  or  liquor  or 
any  other  relaxing  force  has  the  reverse  of  the 
usual  effect.  Instead  of  relaxing,  he  drew  him 
self  together  and  concentrated  more  obstinately 
upon  his  game.  Luck,  so  far  as  the  cards  con 
trolled  it,  was  rather  against  him,  and  the  other 
three  players  took  turns  at  audacious  and  by  no 
means  unskilful  play.  I  was  soon  admiring  the 
way  he  "sized  up"  and  met  each  in  turn.  Pru 
dence  did  not  make  him  timid.  He  advanced  and 
retreated,  "bluffed"  and  held  aloof,  with  acute- 
ness  and  daring. 

At  a  station  perhaps  fifty  miles  from  Chicago, 


MISS   RAMSAY   REVOLTS  87 

the  other  three  left, — and  Doc  had  four  hundred- 
odd  dollars  of  their  money. 

I  dropped  into  the  seat  opposite  him — it  was 
by  the  window — and  amused  myself  watching 
him,  while  waiting  for  a  chance  to  talk  with  him ; 
for  I  saw  that  he  was  a  superior  person,  and,  in 
those  days,  when  I  was  inconspicuous  and  so  was 
not  compelled  constantly  to  be  on  guard,  I  never 
missed  a  chance  to  benefit  by  such  exchanges  of 
ideas. 

He  was  apparently  about  forty  years  old,  to 
strike  a  balance  between  the  youth  of  eyes,  mouth, 
and  contour,  and  the  age  of  deep  lines  and  gray 
ish,  thinning  hair.  He  had  large,  frank,  blue  eyes, 
a  large  nose,  a  strong  forehead  and  chin,  a  grossly 
self-indulgent  mouth, — there  was  the  weakness, 
there,  as  usual !  Evidently,  the  strength  his  mind 
and  character  gave  him  went  in  pandering  to 
physical  appetites.  In  confirmation  of  this,  there 
were  two  curious  marks  on  him, — a  nick  in  the 
rim  of  his  left  ear,  a  souvenir  of  a  bullet  or  a 
knife,  and  a  scar  just  under  the  edge  of  his  chin 
to  the  right.  When  he  compressed  his  lips,  this 
scar,  not  especially  noticeable  at  other  times, 


88  THE   PLUM   TREE 

lifted  up  into  his  face,  became  of  a  sickly,  bluish 
white,  and  transformed  a  careless,  good-humored 
cynic  into  a  man  of  danger,  of  terror. 

His  reverie  began,  as  I  gathered  from  his  un 
guarded  face,  in  cynical  amusement,  probably 
at  his  triumph  over  his  friends.  It  passed  on  to 
still  more  agreeable  things, — something  in  the 
expression  of  the  mouth  suggested  thoughts  of 
how  he  was  going  to  enjoy  himself  as  he  "blew 
in"  his  winnings.  Then  his  features  shadowed, 
darkened,  and  I  had  my  first  view  of  the  scar  ter 
rible.  He  shook  his  big  head  and  big  shoulders, 
roused  himself,  made  ready  to  take  a  drink,  no 
ticed  me,  and  said,  "Won't  you  join  me?"  His 
look  was  most  engaging. 

I  accepted  and  we  were  soon  sociable,  each  tak 
ing  an  instinctive  liking  to  the  other.  We  talked 
of  the  business  situation,  of  the  news  in  the  pa 
pers,  and  then  of  political  affairs.  Each  of  us  saw 
that  there  he  was  at  the  other's  keenest  interest  in 
life.  He  knew  the  game, — practical  politics  as  dis 
tinguished  from  the  politics  talked  by  and  to  the 
public.  But  he  evaded,  without  seeming  to  do  so, 
all  the  ingenious  traps  I  laid  for  drawing  from 


MISS   RAMSAY   REVOLTS  89 

him  some  admission  that  would  give  me  a  clue  to 
where  he  "fitted  in."  I  learned  no  more  about 
him  than  I  thought  he  learned  about  me. 

"I  hope  we  shall  meet  again,"  said  I  cordially, 
as  we  parted  at  the  cab-stand. 

"Thank  you,"  he  answered,  and  afterward  I 
remembered  the  faint  smile  in  his  eyes. 

I,  of  course,  knew  that  Roebuck  was  greatly 
interested  in  my  project  for  putting  political  busi 
ness  on  a  business  basis ;  but  not  until  he  had  ex 
plained  why  he  sent  for  me  did  I  see  how  it 
had  fascinated  and  absorbed  his  mind.  "You 
showed  me,"  he  began,  "that  you  must  have  un 
der  you  a  practical  man  to  handle  the  money  and 
do  the  arranging  with  the  heelers  and  all  that 
sort  of  thing." 

"Yes,"  said  I;  "it's  a  vital  part  of  the  plan, 
We  must  find  a  man  who  is  perfectly  trustworthy 
and  discreet.  Necessarily  he'll  know  or  suspect 
something — not  much,  but  still  something — of 
the  inside  workings  of  the  combine." 

"Well,  I've  found  him,"  went  on  Roebuck,  in 
a  triumphant  tone.  "He's  a  godless  person,  with 
no  character  to  lose,  and  no  conception  of  what 


go  THE   PLUM   TREE 

character  means.  But  he's  straight  as  a  string. 
Providence  seems  to  have  provided  such  men  for 
just  such  situations  as  these,  where  the  devil 
must  be  fought  with  fire.  I've  been  testing  him 
for  nearly  fifteen  years.  But  you  can  judge  for 
yourself." 

I  was  the  reverse  of  pleased.  It  was  not  in  my 
calculations  to  have  a  creature  of  Roebuck's 
foisted  upon  me,  perhaps — indeed,  probably — a 
spy.  I  purposed  to  choose  my  own  man;  and  I 
decided  while  he  was  talking,  that  I  would  accept 
the  Roebuck  selection  only  to  drop  him  on  some 
plausible  pretext  before  we  began  operations.  I 
was  to  meet  the  man  at  dinner, — Roebuck  had 
engaged  a  suite  at  the  Auditorium.  "It  wouldn't 
do  to  have  him  at  my  house  or  club,"  said  he; 
"neither  do  we  want  to  be  seen  with  him." 

Coincidence  is  so  familiar  a  part  of  the  daily 
routine  that  I  was  not  much  surprised  when  my 
acquaintance,  the  astute  poker  player  with  the 
scar,  walked  in  upon  us  at  the  Auditorium.  But 
Roebuck  was  both  astonished  and  chagrined 
when  we  shook  hands  and  greeted  each  other  like 
old  friends. 


MISS   RAMSAY  REVOLTS  91 

"How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Sayler?"  said  Woodruff. 

"Glad  to  see  you,  Doctor  Woodruff,"  I  replied. 
"Then  you  knew  me  all  the  time?  Why  didn't 
you  speak  out?  We  might  have  had  an  hour's 
business  talk  in  the  train." 

"If  I'd  shown  myself  as  leaky  as  all  that,  I 
guess  there'd  have  been  no  business  to  talk 
about,"  he  replied.  "Anyhow,  I  didn't  know  you 
till  you  took  out  your  watch  with  the  monogram 
on  the  back,  just  as  we  were  pulling  in.  Then  I 
remembered  where  I'd  seen  your  face  before.  I 
was  up  at  your  state  house  the  day  that  you  threw 
old  Dominick  down.  That's  been  a  good  many 
years  ago." 

That  chance,  easy,  smoking-compartment  meet 
ing,  at  which  each  had  studied  the  other  dispas 
sionately,  was  most  fortunate  for  us  both. 

The  relation  that  was  to  exist  between  us — 
more,  much  more,  than  that  of  mere  employer 
and  employe — made  fidelity,  personal  fidelity,  * 
imperative;  and  accident  had  laid  the  foundation 
for  the  mutual  attachment  without  which  there  is 
certain  to  be,  sooner  or  later,  suspicion  on  both 
sides,  and  cause  for  it. 


92  THE   PLUM   TREE 

The  two  hours  and  a  half  with  Woodruff,  at 
and  after  dinner,  served  to  reinforce  my  first  im 
pression.  I  saw  that  he  was  a  thorough  man  of 
the  world,  that  he  knew  politics  from  end  to  end, 
and  that  he  understood  the  main  weaknesses  of 
human  nature  and  how  to  play  upon  them  for  the 
advantage  of  his  employers  and  for  his  own  huge 
amusement.  He  gave  a  small  exhibition  of  that 
skill  at  the  expense  of  Roebuck.  He  appreciated 
that  Roebuck  was  one  of  those  unconscious 
hypocrites  who  put  conscience  out  of  court  in 
advance  by  assuming  that  whatever  they  wish 
to  do  is  right  or  they  could  not  wish  to  do  it.  He 
led  Roebuck  on  to  show  off  this  peculiarity  of  his, 
— a  jumbling,  often  in  the  same  breath,  of  the 
most  sonorous  piety  and  the  most  shameless 
business  perfidy.  All  the  time  Woodruff's  face 
was  perfectly  grave, — there  are  some  men  who 
refuse  to  waste  any  of  their  internal  enjoyment 
in  external  show. 

Before  he  left  us  I  arranged  to  meet  him  the 
next  morning  for  the  settlement  of  the  details  of 
his  employment.  When  Roebuck  and  I  were 


MISS   RAMSAY   REVOLTS  93 

alone,  I  said:  "What  do  you  know  about  him? 
Who  is  he?" 

"He  comes  of  a  good  family  here  in  Chicago, 
— one  of  the  best.  Perhaps  you  recall  the  Bow- 
ker  murder?" 

"Vaguely,"  I  answered. 

"It  was  Woodruff  who  did  it.  We  had  a  hard 
time  getting  him  off.  Bowker  and  Woodruff's 
younger  brother  were  playing  cards  one  day, 
and  Bowker  accused  him  of  cheating.  Young 
Woodruff  drew, — perhaps  they  both  drew  at  the 
same  time.  At  any  rate,  Bowker  shot  first  and 
killed  his  man, — he  got  off  on  the  plea  of  self-de 
fense.  It  was  two  years  before  Bowker  and  Doc 
met, — in  the  lobby  of  the  Palmer  House, — I  hap 
pened  to  be  there.  I  was  talking  to  a  friend  when 
suddenly  I  felt  as  if  something  awful  was  about 
to  happen.  I  started  up,  and  saw  Bowker  just 
rising  from  a  table  at  the  far  end  of  the  room.  I 
shan't  ever  forget  his  look, — like  a  bird  charmed 
by  a  snake.  His  lips  were  ajar  and  wrinkled  as 
if  his  blood  had  fled  away  inside  of  him,  and  his 
throat  was  expanding  and  contracting." 


94  THE   PLUM   TREE 

Roebuck  wiped  beads  of  sweat  from  his  fore 
head.  "It  was  Doc  Woodruff  walking  slowly 
toward  him,  with  a  wicked  smile  on  his  face,  and 
that  scar — you  noticed  the  scar?" 

I  nodded. 

"Well,  you  can  imagine  how  that  scar  stood 
out.  He  came  slowly  on,  nobody  able  to  move  a 
muscle  to  stop  him.  When  he  was  about  ten  feet 
from  Bowker  and  as  near  me  as  you  are  now, 
Bowker  gave  a  kind  of  shudder  and  scream  of 
fright,  drew  his  pistol,  and  fired.  The  bullet 
clipped  Woodruff's  ear.  Quick  as  that — "  Roe 
buck  snapped  his  fingers — "Doc  drew,  and  sent 
a  bullet  into  his  heart.  He  fell  forward  across  the 
table  and  his  pistol  crashed  on  the  marble  floor. 
Doc  looked  at  him,  gave  a  cold  sort  of  laugh, 
like  a  jeer  and  a  curse,  and  walked  out  into  the 
street.  When  he  met  a  policeman  he  said,  Tve 
killed  Dick  Bowker.  Here's  my  gun.  Lock  me 
up' — perfectly  cool,  just  as  he  talked  to  us  to 
night." 

"And  you  got  him  off?" 

"Yes.  I  hated  to  do  it,  too,  for  Dick  was  one 


MISS   RAMSAY   REVOLTS  95 

of  my  best  friends.  But  Doc  was  too  useful  to 
us.  In  his  line  he's  without  an  equal." 

"How  did  he  get  that  scar?"  said  I. 

"Nobody  knows.  He  left  here  when  he  was  a 
boy, — to  avoid  being  sent  to  the  reformatory. 
When  he  turned  up,  after  a  dozen  years,  he  said 
he  had  been  a  doctor,  but  didn't  say  where  or 
how.  And  he  had  that  scar.  One  day  a  man 
asked  him  how  he  got  it.  He  picked  up  a  bottle, 
and,  with  his  pleasant  laugh,  broke  it  over  the 
fellow's  jaw.  'About  like  that/  said  he.  People 
don't  ask  him  questions." 

"He's  my  man,"  said  I. 


VII 

BYGONES 

A  telegram  had  been  thrust  under  my  door — 
"I  must  see  you.  Don't  fail  to  stop  off  here  on 
your  way  back.  Answer.  Carlotta." 

Again  she  was  at  the  station  in  her  phaeton. 
Her  first  look,  long  before  I  was  near  enough 
for  speech,  showed  me  how  her  mood  had 
changed;  but  she  waited  until  we  were  clear  of 
the  town.  "Forgive  me,"  she  then  said  in  the  ab 
rupt,  direct  manner  which  was  the  expression  of 
her  greatest  charm,  her  absolute  honesty.  "I've 
got  the  meanest  temper  in  the  world,  but  it  don't 
last,  and  as  soon  as  you  were  gone  I  was  ashamed 
of  myself." 

"I  don't  understand  why  you  are  making  these 
apologies,"  said  I,  "and  I  don't  understand  why 
you  were  angry." 

"That's  what  it  means  to  be  a  man,"  she  re 
plied.  "Your  letter  about  your  mother  made  me 
furious.  You  hadn't  ever  urged  me  to  hurry  up 

96 


BYGONES  97 

the  wedding  on  your  own  account.  And  your 
letter  made  me  feel  as  if,  while  you  personally 
didn't  care  whether  we  ever  married  or  not,  still 
for  your  mother's  sake  you  were  willing  to — to 
sacrifice  yourself." 

"Let  me  see  my  letter,"  said  I. 

"I  tore  it  into  a  thousand  pieces,"  said  she. 
"But  I  don't  mean  that  you  really  wrote  just  that. 
You  didn't.  But  you  made  me  jealous  of  your 
mother,  and  my  temper  got  hold  of  me,  and  then 
I  read  the  meanest  kind  of  things  into  and  un 
der  and  all  round  every  word.  And — I'm  sorry." 

I  could  find  nothing  to  say.  I  saw  my  freedom 
slipping  from  me.  I  watched  it,  sick  at  heart ;  yet, 
on  the  other  hand,  I  neither  tried  nor  wished  to 
detain  it,  though  I  could  easily  have  made  a  re 
newal  of  our  engagement  impossible.  I  have  no 
explanation  for  this  conflict  of  emotions  and  mo 
tives. 

"Don't  make  it  so  hard  for  me,"  she  went  on. 
"I  never  before  in  my  life  told  anybody  I  was 
sorry  for  anything,  and  I  thought  I  never  would. 
But  I  am  sorry,  and — we'll  have  the  wedding 
the  first  day  of  August." 


98  THE   PLUM   TREE 

Still  I  found  nothing  to  say.  It  was  so  pain 
fully  obvious  that,  true  to  her  training,  she  had 
not  given  and  was  not  giving  a  thought  to  the 
state  of  my  mind  and  feelings.  What  she  wished, 
that  she  would  do — the  rest  did  not  interest  her. 

"Are  you  satisfied,  my  lord?'*  she  demanded. 
"Have  I  humbled  myself  sufficiently?" 

"You  haven't  humbled  yourself  at  all,"  said  I. 
"You  have  only  humbled  me." 

She  did  not  pause  on  my  remark  long  enough 
to  see  what  it  meant.  "Now  that  it's  all  settled," 
she  said  gaily,  "I  don't  mind  telling  you  that  I 
began  to  make  my  preparations  to  be  married  on 
the  first  of  August — when,  do  you  think?" 

"When?"  I  said. 

"The  very  day  I  got  your  nasty  letter,  putting 
me  second  to  your  mother."  And  she  laughed, 
and  was  still  laughing,  when  she  added:  "So, 
you  see,  I  was  determined  to  marry  you." 

"I  do,"  said  I  dryly.  "I  suppose  I  ought  to 
feel  flattered." 

"No,  you  oughtn't,"  she  retorted.  "I  simply 
made  up  my  mind  to  marry  you.  Ami  I'd  do  it, 
no  matter  what  it  cost.  I  get  that  from  father. 


BYGONES  99 

But  I've  got  mother's  disposition,  too — and  that 
makes  me  far  too  good  for  such  a  cold,  unsenti 
mental,  ambitious  person  as  you." 

"Don't  you  think  you're  rather  rash  to  confess 
so  frankly — when  I  could  still  escape?" 

"Not  at  all,"  was  her  confident  answer.  "I 
know  you,  and  so  I  know  nothing  could  make 
you  break  your  word." 

"There's  some  truth  in  that," — and  I  hope  that 
I  do  not  deceive  myself  in  thinking  I  was  honest 
there.  "More  truth,  perhaps,  than  you  guess." 

She  looked  shrewdly  at  me — and  friendlily. 
"Don't  be  too  sure  I  haven't  guessed,"  said  she. 
"Nobody's  ever  so  blind  as  he  lets  others  think. 
It's  funny,  isn't  it?  There  are  things  in  your 
mind  that  you'd  never  tell  me,  and  things  in  my 
mind  that  I'd  never  tell  you.  And  each  of  us 
guesses  most  of  them,  without  ever  letting  on." 
She  laughed  queerly,  and  struck  the  horse  smart 
ly  so  that  he  leaped  into  a  gait  at  which  conversa 
tion  was  impossible. 

When  we  resumed,  the  subject  was  the  details 
of  our  wedding. 

At  home  again,  I  found  my  mother  too  ill  to 


100  THE  PLUM   TREE 

leave  her  bed.  She  had  been  ill  before, — many 
times  when  she  wouldn't  confess  it,  several  times 
when  she  was  forced  to  admit  it,  but  never  before 
so  ill  that  she  could  not  dress  and  come  down 
stairs.  "I  shall  be  up  to-morrow/'  she  assured 
me,  and  I  almost  believed  her.  She  drew  a  letter 
from  under  her  pillow.  "This  came  while  you 
were  away,"  she  went  on.  "I  kept  it  here,  be 
cause — "  a  look  of  shame  flitted  across  her  face, 
and  then  her  eyes  were  steady  and  proud  again, 
— "why  should  I  be  ashamed  of  it?  I  had  the 
impulse  to  destroy  the  letter,  and  I'm  not  sure 
but  that  I'm  failing  in  my  duty." 

I  took  it, — yes,  it  was  from  Boston,  from 
Betty.  I  opened  it  and  fortunately  had  nerved 
myself  against  showing  myself  to  my  mother. 
There  was  neither  beginning  nor  end,  just  a  sin 
gle  sentence : 

"From  the  bottom  of  my  broken  heart  I  am 
thankful  that  I  have  been  spared  the  horror  of 
discovering  I  had  bound  myself  for  life  to  a 
coward." 

The  shot  went  straight  to  the  center  of  the  tar 
get.  But —  There  lay  my  mother — did  she  not 


BYGONES  icj 

have  the  right  to  determine  my  destiny — she  who 
had  given  me  my  life  and  her  own?  I  tore  up 
Betty's  letter,  and  I  looked  at  mother  and  said, 
"There's  nothing  in  that  to  make  me  waver — or 
regret."  It  was  the  only  lie  I  ever  told  her.  I 
told  it  well,  thank  God,  for  she  was  convinced, 
and  the  look  in  her  face  repaid  me  a  thousand 
fold.  It  repays  me  once  more  as  I  write. 

Carlotta  and  I  were  married  at  her  bedside,  and 
she  lived  only  until  the  next  day  but  one.  When 
the  doctor  told  me  of  the  long  concealed  mortal 
disease  that  was  the  cause  of  her  going,  he  ended 
with :  "And,  Mr.  Sayler,  it  passes  belief  that  she 
managed  to  keep  alive  for  five  years.  I  can't  un 
derstand  it."  But  /  understood.  She  simply  re 
fused  to  go  until  she  felt  that  her  mission  was 
accomplished. 

"We  must  never  forget  her,"  said  Carlotta, 
trying  to  console  me  by  grieving  with  me. 

I  did  not  answer, — how  could  I  explain? 
Never  forget  her !  On  the  contrary,  I  knew  that 
I  must  forget,  and  that  I  must  work  and  grow 
and  so  heal  the  wound  and  cover  its  scar.  I  lost 
not  a  day  in  beginning. 


102    .  THE  PLUM  TREE 


To  those  few  succeeding  months  I  owe  the 
power  I  have  had  all  these  years  to  concentrate 
my  mind  upon  whatever  I  will  to  think  about ;  for 
in  those  months  I  fought  the  fight  I  dared  not 
lose — fought  it  and  won.  Let  those  who  have 
never  loved  talk  of  remembering  the  dead. 

I  turned  away  from  her  grave  with  the  resolve 
that  my  first  act  of  power  would  be  to  stamp 
out  Dominick.  But  for  him  she  would  not  have 
gone  for  many  a  year.  It  was  his  persecutions 
that  involved  us  in  the  miseries  which  wasted 
her  and  made  her  fall  a  victim  to  the  mortal  dis 
ease.  It  was  his  malignity  that  poisoned  her  last 
years,  which,  but  for  him,  would  have  been 
happy. 

As  my  plans  for  ousting  Dunkirk  took  shape, 
I  saw  clearly  that,  if  he  were  to  be  overthrown  at 
once,  I  must  use  part  of  the  existing  control  of 
the  machine  of  the  party, — it  would  take  several 
years,  at  least  three,  to  build  up  an  entirely  new 
control.  To  work  quickly,  I  must  use  Croffut, 
Dunkirk's  colleague  in  the  Senate.  And  Croffut 
was  the  creature  of  Dominick. 


BYGONES  103 

Early  in  September  Woodruff  came  to  me,  at 
Fredonia,  his  manner  jubilant.  "I  can  get  Domi 
nick,"  he  exclaimed.  "He  is  furious  against  Dun 
kirk  because  he's  just  discovered  that  Dunkirk 
cheated  him  out  of  a  hundred  thousand  dollars 
on  that  perpetual  street  railway  franchise,  last 
winter." 

"But  we  don't  want  Dominick,"  said  I. 

My  face  must  have  reflected  my  mind,  for 
Woodruff  merely  replied,  "Oh,  very  well.  Of 
course  that  alters  the  case." 

"We  must  get  Croffut  without  him,"  I  went 
on. 

Woodruff  shook  his  head.  "Can't  get  him," 
he  said.  "Dominick  controls  the  two  southern 
ranges  of  counties.  He  finances  his  own  machine 
from  what  he  collects  from  vice  and  crime  in 
those  cities.  He  gives  that  branch  of  the  plum 
tree  to  the  boys.  He  keeps  the  bigger  one,  the 
corporations,  for  himself." 

"He  can  be  destroyed,"  said  I,  waving  aside 
these  significant  reminders. 

"Yes,  in  five  years  or  so  of  hard  work.  Mean 
while,  Dunkirk  will  run  things  at  the  capital  to 


io4  THE   PLUM   TREE 

suit  himself.  Anyhow,  you're  taking  on  a  good 
deal  more  than's  necessary — starting  with  two 
big  fights,  one  of  'em  against  a  man  you  ought  to 
use  to  do  up  the  other.  It's  like  breaking  your 
own  sword  at  the  beginning  of  the  duel." 

"Go  back  to  the  capital/'  said  I,  after  a  mo 
ment's  thought ;  "I'll  telegraph  you  up  there  what 
to  do." 

It  was  my  first  test — my  first  chance  to  show 
whether  I  had  learned  at  the  savage  school  at 
which  I  had  been  a  pupil.  Scores,  hundreds  of 
men,  can  plan,  and  plan  wisely, — at  almost  any 
cross-roads'  general  store  you  hear  in  the  conver 
sation  round  the  stove  as  good  plans  as  ever 
moved  the  world  to  admiration.  But  execution, 
— there's  the  rub!  And  the  first  essential  of  an 
executive  is  freedom  from  partialities  and  ha 
treds, — not  to  say,  "Do  I  like  him?  Do  I  hate 
him?  Was  he  my  enemy  a  year  or  a  week  or  a 
moment  ago?"  but  only  to  ask  oneself  the  one 
question,  "Can  he  be  useful  to  me  now?" 

"I  will  use  Dominick  to  destroy  Dunkirk,  and 
then  I  will  destroy  him,"  I  said  to  myself.  But 
that  did  not  satisfy  me.  I  saw  that  I  was  tern- 


BYGONES  105 

porizing  with  the  weakness  that  has  wrecked 
more  careers  than  misjudgment.  I  felt  that  I 
must  decide  then  and  there  whether  or  not  I 
would  eliminate  personal  hatred  from  my  life. 
After  a  long  and  bitter  struggle,  I  did  decide 
once  and  for  all. 

I  telegraphed  Woodruff  to  go  ahead.  When  I 
went  back  to  Pulaski  to  settle  my  affairs  there, 
Dominick  came  to  see  me.  Not  that  he  dreamed 
of  the  existence  of  my  combine  or  of  my  connec 
tion  with  the  new  political  deal,  but  simply  be 
cause  I  had  married  into  the  Ramsay  family  and 
was  therefore  now  in  the  Olympus  of  corporate 
power  before  which  he  was  on  his  knees, — for  a 
price,  like  a  wise  devotee,  untroubled  by  any  such 
qualmishness  as  self-respect.  I  was  ready  for 
him.  I  put  out  my  hand. 

"I'm  glad  you're  willing  to  let  bygones  be 
bygones,  Mr.  Sayler,"  said  he,  so  moved  that  the 
tears  stood  in  his  eyes. 

Then  it  flashed  on  me  that,  after  all,  he  was 
only  a  big  brute,  driven  blindly  by  his  appetites. 
How  silly  to  plot  revenges  upon  the  creatures 
of  circumstance — how  like  a  child  beating  the 


io6  THE   PLUM   TREE 

chair  it  happens  to  strike  against!  Hatreds  and 
revenges  are  for  the  small  mind  with  small  mat 
ters  to  occupy  it.  Of  the  stones  I  have  quarried  to 
build  my  career,  not  one  has  been,  or  could  have 
been,  spared  to  waste  as  a  missile. 

I  went  down  to  the  Cedar  Grove  cemetery, 
where  my  mother  lay  beside  my  father.  My  two 
sisters  who  died  before  I  was  born  were  at  their 
feet;  her  parents  and  his  on  either  side.  And  I 
said  to  her,  "Mother,  I  am  going  to  climb  up  to 
a  place  where  I  can  use  my  life  as  you  would 
have  me  use  it.  To  rise  in  such  a  world  as  this 
I  shall  have  to  do  many  things  you  would  not 
approve.  I  shall  do  them.  But  when  I  reach  the 
height,  I  shall  justify  myself  and  you.  I  know 
how  many  have  started  with  the  same  pledge  and 
have  been  so  defiled  by  what  they  had  to  han 
dle  that  when  they  arrived  they  were  past  cleans 
ing  ;  and  they  neither  kept  nor  cared  to  keep  their 
pledge.  But  I,  mother,  shall  not  break  this  pledge 
to  you." 


VIII 


About  a  month  after  the  Chicago  and  Fredonia 
bill  was  smothered  in  committee  there  appeared 
upon  the  threshold  of  my  office,  in  the  adminis 
tration  building  of  the  Ramsay  Company,  a  man 
whom  at  first  glance  you  might  have  taken  for  an 
exhorter  or  a  collector  for  some  pious  enterprise. 
But  if  you  had  made  a  study  of  faces,  your  sec 
ond  glance  would  have  cut  through  that  gloze  of 
oily,  apologetic  appeal.  Behind  a  thin  screen  of 
short  gray  beard  lay  a  heavy  loose  mouth,  cruel 
and  strong;  above  it,  a  great  beak  and  a  pair  of 
pale  green  eyes,  intensely  alive.  They  were  in 
startling  contrast  to  the  apparent  decrepitude  of 
the  stooped  shambling  body,  far  too  small  for  its 
covering  of  decent  but  somewhat  rusty  black. 

"Senator  Dunkirk,"  said  I,  rising  and  advanc 
ing  to  greet  the  justly  feared  leader  of  my  party. 
I  knew  there  was  an  intimate  connection  between 
this  visit  and  the  death  of  his  pet  project.  I 
107 


io8  THE   PLUM   TREE 

thought  it  safe  to  assume  that  he  had  somehow 
stumbled  upon  Woodruff's  tunnelings,  and  with 
that  well-trained  nose  of  his  had  smelled  out  their 
origin.  But  I  need  not  have  disquieted  myself;  I 
did  not  then  know  how  softly  Woodruff  moved, 
sending  no  warnings  ahead,  and  leaving  no  trail 
behind. 

For  several  minutes  the  Senator  and  I  felt  for 
each  other  in  the  dark  in  which  we  both  straight 
way  hid.  He  was  the  first  to  give  up  and  reveal 
himself  in  the  open.  "But  I  do  not  wish  to  waste 
your  time  and  my  own,  Mr.  Sayler,"  he  said ;  "I 
have  come  to  see  you  about  the  threatened  split 
in  the  party.  You  are,  perhaps,  surprised  that  I 
should  have  come  to  you,  when  you  have  been  so 
many  years  out  of  politics,  but  I  think  you  will 
understand,  as  I  explain  myself.  You  know  Mr. 
Roebuck?" 

"I  can't  say  that  I  know  him,"  I  replied.  "He 
is  not  an  easy  man  to  know — indeed,  who  is  ?" 

"A  very  able  man;  in  some  respects  a  great 
man/'  Dunkirk  went  on.  "But,  like  so  many  of 
our  great  men  of  business,  he  can  not  appreciate 
politics, — the  difficulties  of  the  man  in  public  life 


A   CALL  FROM   "THE   PARTY*'  109 

where  persuasion  and  compromise  must  be  used, 
authority  almost  never.  And,  because  I  have  re 
sisted  some  of  his  impossible  demands,  he  has 
declared  war  on  the  party.  He  has  raised  up  in 
it  a  faction  headed  by  your  old  enemy,  Dominick. 
I  need  not  tell  you  what  a  brute,  what  a  beast  he 
is,  the  representative  of  all  that  is  abhorrent  in 
politics." 

"A  faction  headed  by  Dominick  couldn't  be 
very  formidable,"  I  suggested. 

"But  Dominick  isn't  the  nominal  leader,"  re 
plied  Dunkirk.  "Roebuck  is  far  too  shrewd  for 
that.  No,  he  has  put  forward  as  the  decoy  my 
colleague,  Croffut, — perhaps  you  know  him?  If 
so,  I  needn't  tell  you  what  a  vain,  shallow,  venal 
fellow  he  is,  with  his  gift  of  gab  that  fools  the 
people." 

"I  know  him,"  said  I,  in  a  tone  which  did  not 
deny  the  accuracy  of  Dunkirk's  description. 

"Their  object,"  continued  the  Senator,  "is  to 
buy  the  control  of  the  party  machinery  away 
from  those  who  now  manage  it  in  the  interests  of 
conservatism  and  fair  dealing.  If  they  succeed, 
the  only  business  interest  that  will  be  considered 


i  io  THE   PLUM   TREE 

in  this  state  will  be  the  Power  Trust.  And  we 
shall  have  Dominick,  the  ignorant  brute,  lashed 
on  by  Roebuck's  appetites,  until  the  people  will 
rise  in  fury  and  elect  the  opposition, — and  you 
know  what  it  is." 

"What  you  say  is  most  interesting,"  said  I, 
"but  I  confess  I  haven't  imagination  enough  to 
conceive  a  condition  of  affairs  in  which  anybody 
with  'the  price'  couldn't  get  what  he  wanted  by 
paying  for  it.  Perhaps  the  business  interests 
would  gain  by  a  change, — the  other  crowd  might 
be  less  expensive.  Certainly  the  demands  of  our 
party's  machine  have  become  intolerable." 

"It  astonishes  me,  Mr.  Sayler,  to  hear  you  say 
that, — you,  who  have  been  in  politics,"  he  pro 
tested,  taken  aback  by  my  hardly  disguised  at 
tack  upon  him, — for  he  was  in  reality  "party" 
and  "machine."  "Surely,  you  understand  the  sit 
uation.  We  must  have  money  to  maintain  our 
organization,  and  to  run  our  campaign.  Our 
workers  can't  live  on  air;  and,  to  speak  of  only 
one  other  factor,  there  are  thousands  and  thou 
sands  of  our  voters,  honest  fellows,  too,  who 
must  be  paid  to  come  to  the  polls.  They  wouldn't 


A   CALL   FROM   "THE   PARTY"  in 

vote  against  us  for  any  sum;  but,  unless  we  pay 
them  for  the  day  lost  in  the  fields,  they  stay  at 
home.  Now,  where  does  our  money  come  from? 
The  big  corporations  are  the  only  source, — who 
else  could  or  would  give  largely  enough?  And  it 
is  necessary  and  just  that  they  should  be  repaid. 
Bu£  they  are  no  longer  content  with  moderate 
and  prudent  rewards'  for  their  patriotism.  They 
make  bigger_  and  bigger,  and  more  and  more  un 
reasonable,  demands .QIL.US,  and  so  undermine  our 
popularity, — foi^he  people  can't  be  blinded  whol- 
y  to  what's  going  on.  And  thus,  year  by  year,  it 
akes  more  and  more  money  to  keep  us  in  con 
trol." 

"You  seem  to  have  forgotten  my  point/'  said 
I,  smiling.  "Why  should  you  be  kept  in  control  ? 
If  you  go  out,  the  others  come  in.  They  bluster 
and  threaten,  in  order  to  get  themselves  in ;  but, 
once  they're  elected,  they  discover  that  it  wasn't 
the  people's  woes  they  were  shouting  about,  but 
their  own.  And  soon  they  are  docile  'conserva 
tives'  lapping  away  at  the  trough,  with  nothing 
dangerous  in  them  but  their  appetites." 
"Precisely, — their  appetites,"  said  he. 


ii2  THE   PLUM   TREE 

"A  starved  man  has  to  practise  eating  a  long, 
long  time  before  he  can  equal  the  performances 
of  a  trained  glutton,"  I  suggested. 

His  facial  response  to  my  good-humored  rail 
lery  was  feeble  indeed.  And  it  soon  died  in  a  look 
of  depression  that  made  him  seem  even  older 
and  more  decrepit  than  was  his  wont.  "The 
same  story,  wherever  I  go,"  said  he  sadly.  "The 
business  interests  refuse  to  see  their  peril.  And 
when  I,  in  my  zeal,  persist,  they, — several  of 
them,  Sayler,  have  grinned  at  me  and  reminded 
me  that  the  legislature  to  be  elected  next  fall  will 
choose  my  successor!  As  if  my  own  selfish  in 
terests  were  all  I  have  in  mind!  I  am  old  and 
feeble,  on  the  verge  of  the  grave.  Do  you  think, 
Mr.  Sayler,  that  I  would  continue  in  public  life 
if  it  were  not  for  what  I  conceive  to  be  my  duty 
to  my  party  ?  I  have  toiled  too  long  for  it — " 

"Your  record  speaks  for  itself,  Senator,"  I  put 
in,  politely  but  pointedly. 

"You  are  very  discouraging,  Sayler,"  he  said 
forlornly.  "But  I  refuse  to  be  discouraged.  The 
party  needs  you,  and  I  have  come  to  do  my  duty, 
and  I  won't  leave  without  doing  it." 


A   CALL   FROM   "THE   PARTY"  113 

"I  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  company's  po 
litical  contributions,"  said  I.  "You  will  have  to 
see  Mr.  Ramsay,  as  usual." 

He  waved  his  hand.  "Let  me  explain,  please. 
Roover  is  about  to  resign, — as  you  probably 
know,  he's  been  chairman  of  the  party's  state 
committee  for  seventeen  years.  I've  come  to  ask 
you  to  take  his  place." 

It  was  impossible  wholly  to  hide  my  amaze 
ment,  my  stupefaction.  Had  he  had  the  shadow 
iest  suspicion  of  my  plans,  of  the  true  inwardness 
of  the  Croffut-Dominick  movement,  he  would  as 
readily  have  offered  me  his  own  head.  In  fact,  he 
was  offering  me  his  own  head;  for,  with  the 
money  and  the  other  resources  at  my  command, 
I  needed  only  this  place  of  official  executive  of 
the  party  to  make  me  master.  And  here  he  was, 
giving  me  the  place,  under  the  delusion  that  he 
could  use  me  as  he  had  been  using  Roover. 

He  must  have  misread  my  expression,  for  he 
went  on:  "Don't  refuse  on  impulse,  Sayler.  I 
and  the  others  will  do  everything  to  make  your 
duties  as  light  as  possible." 

"I  should  not  be  content  to  be  a  mere  figure- 


H4  THE   PLUM   TREE 

head,  as  Roover  has  been/'  I  warned  him.  He 
had  come,  in  his  desperation,  to  try  to  get  the 
man  who  combined  the  advantages  of  being, 
as  he  supposed,  Dominick's  enemy  and  a  mem 
ber  of  one  of  the  state's  financially  influential 
families.  He  had  come  to  cozen  me  into  letting 
him  use  me  in  return  for  a  mockery  of  an  honor. 
And  I  was  simply  tumbling  him,  or,  rather,  per 
mitting  him  to  tumble  himself,  into  the  pit  he  had 
dug  for  me.  Still,  I  felt  that  I  owed  it  to  my  self- 
respect  to  give  him  a  chance.  "If  I  take  the  place, 
I  shall  fill  it  to  the  best  of  my  ability'1 

"Certainly,  certainly, — we  want  your  ability." 
Behind  his  bland,  cordial  mask  I  saw  the  spider 
eyes  gleaming  and  the  spider  claws  twitching  as 
he  felt  his  net  quiver  under  hovering  wings. 
"We  want  you — we  need  you,  Sayler.  We  ex 
pect  you  to  do  your  best." 

My  best!  What  would  my  "best"  have  been, 
had  I  been  only  what  he  thought, — dependent 
upon  him  for  supplies,  surrounded  by  his  lieuten 
ants,  hearing  nothing  but  what  he  chose  to  tell 
me,  and  able  to  execute  only  such  orders  as  he 
gave  or  approved ! 


A   CALL   FROM   "THE   PARTY"  115 

"I  am  sure  we  can  count  on  you/'  he  urged. 

"I  will  try  it,"  said  I,  after  a  further  hesitation 
that  was  not  altogether  show. 

He  did  not  linger, — he  wished  to  give  me  no 
chance  to  change  my  mind  and  fly  his  net.  I  was 
soon  alone,  staring  dazedly  at  my  windfall  and 
wondering  if  fortune  would  ever  give  me  any 
thing  without  attaching  to  it  that  which  would 
make  me  doubt  whether  my  gift  had  more  of  bit 
ter  or  more  of  sweet  in  it. 

Dunkirk  announced  the  selection  of  a  new 
chairman  that  very  afternoon, — as  a  forecast,  of 
course,  for  there  was  the  formality  of  my  "elec 
tion"  by  the  sixty-three  members  of  the  state 
committee  to  be  gone  through.  His  proposition 
was  well  received.  The  old-line  politicians  re 
membered  my  father ;  the  Reformers  recalled  my 
fight  against  Dominick;  the  business  men  liked 
my  connection  with  the  Ramsay  Company,  assur 
ing  stability  and  regard  for  "conservatism";  the 
"boys"  were  glad  because  I  had  a  rich  wife  and  a 
rich  brother-in-law.  The  "boys"  always  cheer 
when  a  man  with  money  develops  political  aspi 
rations. 


n6  THE  PLUM  TREE 

I  did  not  see  Woodruff  until  I  went  down  to 
the  capital  to  begin  my  initiation.  I  came  upon 
him  there,  in  the  lobby  of  the  Capital  City  Hotel. 
As  we  talked  for  a  moment  like  barely-acquainted 
strangers,  saying  nothing  that  might  not  have 
been  repeated  broadcast,  his  look  was  asking: 
"How  did  you  manage  to  trap  Dunkirk  into  do 
ing  it  ?"  I  never  told  him  the  secret,  and  so  never 
tore  out  the  foundation  of  his  belief  in  me  as  a 
political  wizard.  It  is  by  such  judicious  use  of 
their  few  strokes  of  good  luck  that  successful 
men  get  their  glamour  of  the  superhuman.  In  the 
eyes  of  the  average  man,  who  is  lazy  or  inter 
mittent,  the  result  of  plain,  incessant,  uninter- 
mittent  work  is  amazing  enough.  All  that  is 
needed  to  make  him  cry,  "Genius !"  is  a  little 
luck  adroitly  exploited. 

I  left  Woodruff,  to  join  Dunkirk.  "Who  is 
that  chap  over  there, — Doctor  Woodruff?"  I 
asked  him. 

"Woodruff?"  replied  the  Senator.  "Oh,  a  lob 
byist.  He  does  a  good  deal  for  Roebuck,  I  be 
lieve.  An  honest  fellow, — for  that  kind, — they 
tell  me.  It's  always  well  to  be  civil  to  them." 


A   CALL   FROM   "THE   PARTY"  117 

Dunkirk's  "initiation"  of  me  into  the  duties 
of  my  office  wiped  away  my  last  lingering  sense 
of  double,  or,  at  least,  doubtful,  dealing.  He  told 
me  nothing  that  was  not  calculated  to  mislead  me. 
And  he  was  so  glib  and  so  frank  and  so  sympa 
thetic  that,  had  I  not  known  the  whole  machine 
from  the  inside,  I  should  have  been  his  dupe. 

It  is  not  pleasant  to  suspect  that,  in  some  par 
ticular  instance,  one  of  your  fellow  men  takes  you 
for  a  simple-minded  fool.  To  know  you  are  being 
so  regarded,  not  in  one  instance,  but  in  general,  is 
in  the  highest  degree  exasperating,  no  matter 
how  well  your  vanity  is  under  control. 

Perhaps  I  should  not  have  been  able  to  play  my 
part  and  deceive  my  deceiver  had  I  been  steadily 
at  headquarters.  As  it  was,  I  went  there  little  and 
then  gave  no  orders,  apparently  contenting  my 
self  with  the  credit  for  what  other  men  were  do 
ing  in  my  name.  In  fact,  so  obvious  did  I  make 
my  neglect  as  chairman  that  the  party  press  com 
mented  on  it  and  covertly  criticized  me.  Dun 
kirk  mildly  reproached  me  for  lack  of  interest. 
He  did  not  know — indeed,  he  never  knew — that 
his  chief  lieutenant,  Thurston,  in  charge  at  head- 


n8  THE   PLUM   TREE 

quarters,  had  gone  over  to  "the  enemy,"  and  was 
Woodruff's  right-hand  man.  And  it  is  not  neces 
sary  for  me  to  say  where  Woodruff  got  the  or 
ders  he  transmitted  to  Thurston. 

My  excuse  for  keeping  aloof  was  that  I  was 
about  to  be  transformed  into  a  man  of  family. 
As  I  was  fond  of  children  I  had  looked  forward 
to  this  with  more  eagerness  than  I  ventured  to 
show  to  my  wife.  She  might  not  have  liked  it, 
eager  though  she  was  also.  As  soon  as  she  knew 
that  her  longings  were  to  be  satisfied,  she  entered 
upon  a  course  of  preparation  so  elaborate  that  I 
was  secretly  much  amused,  though  I  thoroughly 
approved  and  encouraged  her.  Every  moment  of 
her  days  was  laid  out  in  some  duty  imposed  upon 
her  by  the  regimen  she  had  arranged  after  a  study 
of  all  that  science  says  on  the  subject. 

As  perfect  tranquillity  was  a  fundamental  of 
the  regime,  she  permitted  nothing  to  ruffle  her. 
But  Ed  more  than  made  up  for  her  calm.  Two 
weeks  before  the  event,  she  forbade  him  to  enter 
her  presence — "or  any  part  of  the  grounds  where 
I'm  likely  to  see  you,"  said  she.  "The  very  sight 
of  you,  looking  so  flustered,  unnerves  me." 


A   CALL   FROM   "THE   PARTY"  119 

While  he  and  I  were  waiting  in  the  sitting- 
room  for  the  news,  he  turned  his  heart  inside  out. 

"I  want  to  tell  you,  Harvey,"  said  he,  "that 
the — boy  or  girl — whichever  it  is — is  to  be  my 
heir." 

"I  shan't  hold  you  to  that,"  I  replied  with  a 
laugh. 

"No, — I'll  never  marry,"  he  went  on.  "There 
was  an — an  angel.  You  know  the  Shaker  settle 
ment? — well,  out  there." 

I  looked  at  him  in  wonder.  If  ever  there  was  a 
man  who  seemed  unromantic,  it  was  he,  heavy 
and  prosaic  and  so  shy  that  he  was  visibly  agi 
tated  even  in  bowing  to  a  woman  acquaintance. 

"I  met  her,"  he  was  saying,  "when  I  was  driv 
ing  that  way, — the  horse  ran,  I  was  thrown  out, 
and  her  parents  had  to  take  me  in  and  let  her 
nurse  me.  You've  seen  her  face, — or  faces  like 
it.  Most  of  those  Madonnas  over  on  the  other 
side  in  all  the  galleries  suggest  her.  Well, — her 
parents  were  furious, — wouldn't  hear  of  it, — you 
know  Shakers  think  marriage  and  love  and  all 
those  things  are  wicked.  And  she  thought  so, 
too.  How  she  used  to  suffer!  It  wore  her  to 


120  THE  PLUM   TREE 

a  shadow.  She  wouldn't  marry  me, — wouldn't 
let  me  so  much  as  touch  her  hand.  But  we  used 
to  meet  and — then  she  caught  a  cold — waiting 
hours  for  me,  one  winter  night,  when  there' d 
been  a  misunderstanding  about  the  place — I  was 
in  one  place,  she  in  another.  And  the  cold, — you 
see,  she  couldn't  fight  against  it.  And — and — 
there  won't  be  another,  Harvey.  All  women  are 
sacred  to  me  for  her  sake,  but  I  couldn't  any  more 
marry  than  I  could — could  stop  feeling  her  sit 
ting  beside  me,  just  a  little  way  off,  wrapped  in 
her  drab  shawl,  with  her  face — like  a  glimpse 
through  the  gates  of  Heaven." 

Within  me  up-started  the  memories  that  I  kept 
battened  down. 

"Your  children  are  mine,  too,  Harvey,"  he 
ended. 

I  took  from  Carlotta's  work-basket  an  un 
finished  bit  of  baby  clothing.  I  went  to  him  and 
held  it  up  and  pointed  to  the  monogram  she  had 
embroidered  on  it. 

"E.  R.  S.,"  he  read  aloud.  Then  he  looked  at 
me  with  a  queer  expression  beginning  to  form  in 
his  eyes. 


A   CALL   FROM   "THE   PARTY"  121 

"Edward  Ramsay  Sayler,  if  it's  a  boy/'  said  I. 
"Edwina  Ramsay  Sayler,  if  it's  a  girl." 

He  snatched  the  bit  of  linen  from  me  and 
buried  his  face  in  it. 

The  baby  was  a  boy, — fortunately,  for  I  don't 
admire  the  name  Edwina,  and  I  shouldn't  have 
liked  to  handicap  a  child  with  it.  Carlotta  and 
Ed  were  delighted,  but  I  felt  a  momentary  keen 
disappointment.  I  had  wanted  a  girl.  Girls  never 
leave  their  parents  completely,  as  boys  do.  Also 
I  should  rather  have  looked  forward  to  my  child's 
having  a  sheltered  life,  one  in  which  the  fine  and 
beautiful  ideals  do  not  have  to  be  molded  into  the 
gross,  ugly  forms  of  the  practical.  I  may  say,  in 
passing,  that  I  deplore  the  entrance  of  women 
into  the  world  of  struggle.  Women  are  the  nat 
ural  and  only  custodians  of  the  ideals.  We  men 
are  compelled  to  wander,  often  to  wander  far, 
from  the  ideal.  Unless  our  women  remain  aloof 
from  action,  how  are  the  ideals  to  be  preserved? 
Man  for  action;  woman  to  purify  man,  when  he 
returns  stained  with  the  blood  and  sin  of  battle. 

But — with  the  birth  of  the  first  child  I  began 
to  appreciate  how  profoundly  right  my  mother 


122  THE   PLUM   TREE 

had  been  about  marriage  and  its  source  of  Happi 
ness.  There  are  other  flowers  than  the  rose, — 
other  flowers,  and  beautiful,  the  more  beautiful 
for  its  absence. 


IX 

TO  THE  SEATS  OF  THE  MIGHTY 

We,  our  party,  carried  the  state,  as  usual.  Our 
legislative  majority  was  increased  by  eleven,  to 
thirty-seven  on  joint  ballot.  It  was  certain  that 
Dunkirk's  successor  would  be  of  the  same  polit 
ical  faith ;  but  would  he  be  Dunkirk?  At  first  that 
venerable  custodian  of  the  plum  tree  hadn't  a 
doubt.  He  had  come  to  look  on  it  as  his  personal 
property.  But,  after  he  had  talked  to  legislators- 
elect  from  various  parts  of  the  state,  he  became 
uneasy.  He  found  that  the  party's  members  were 
dangerously  evenly  divided  between  himself  and 
the  "Dominick-Croffut"  faction.  And  soon  he 
was  at  me  to  declare  for  him. 

I  evaded  as  long  as  I  could, — which  did  not 
decrease  his  nervousness.  When  he  put  it  to  me 
point-blank,  I  said:  "I  can't  do  it,  Senator.  I 
will  not  mix  in  quarrels  within  the  party." 

"But  they  are  saying  you  are  against  me,"  he 
pleaded. 

123 


124  THE   PLUM   TREE 

"And  your  people  are  saying  I  am  for  you,"  I 
retorted. 

"But  surely  you  are  not  against  me  and  for 
Schoolcraft  ?  What  has  he  done  for  you  ?" 

"And  what  have  you  done  for  me?"  I  replied, 
— a  mere  interrogation,  without  any  feeling  in  it. 
"Tell  me.  I  try  to  pay  my  debts." 

His  eyes  shifted.  "Nothing,  Sayler,  nothing," 
he  said.  "I  didn't  mean  to  insinuate  that  you 
owed  me  anything.  Still,  I  thought — you 
wouldn't  have  been  state  chairman,  except — " 

As  he  halted,  I  said,  "Except  that  you  needed 
me.  And  you  will  recall  that  I  took  it  only  on 
condition  that  I  should  be  free." 

"Then  you  are  opposed  to  me,"  he  said.  "No 
body  can  be  on  the  fence  in  this  fight." 

"I  do  not  think  you  can  be  elected,"  I  replied. 

As  he  sat  silent,  the  puffs  under  his  eyes 
swelled  into  bags  and  the  pallor  of  his  skin 
changed  to  the  gray  which  makes  the  face  look 
as  if  a  haze  or  a  cloud  lay  upon  it.  I  pitied  him 
so  profoundly  that,  had  I  ventured  to  speak,  I 
should  have  uttered  impulsive  generosities  that 
would  have  cost  me  dear.  How  rarely  are  our 


TO   THE   SEATS   OF   THE   MIGHTY         125 

impulses  of  generosity  anything  but  impulses  to 
folly,  injustice,  and  wrong ! 

"We  shall  see,"  was  all  he  said,  and  he  rose  and 
shambled  away. 

They  told  me  he  made  a  pitiful  sight,  wheed 
ling  and  whining  among  the  legislators.  But  he 
degraded  himself  to  some  purpose.  He  succeeded 
in  rallying  round  him  enough  members  to  dead 
lock  the  party  caucus  for  a  month, — members 
from  the  purely  rural  districts,  where  the  senti 
ment  of  loyalty  is  strongest,  where  his  piety  and 
unselfish  devotion  to  the  party  were  believed  in, 
and  his  significance  as  a  "statesman."  I  let  this 
deadlock  continue — forty-one  for  Dunkirk,  forty- 
one  for  Schoolcraft — until  I  felt  that  the  party 
throughout  the  state  was  heartily  sick  of  the 
struggle.  Then  Woodruff  bought,  at  twelve 
thousand  dollars  apiece,  two  Dunkirk  men  to 
vote  to  transfer  the  contest  to  the  floor  of  a  joint 
session  of  the  two  houses. 

After  four  days  of  balloting  there,  seven  Dom- 
inick-Croffut  men  voted  for  me — my  first  appear 
ance  as  a  candidate.  On  the  seventy-seventh  bal 
lot  Schoolcraft  withdrew,  and  all  the  Domi- 


126  THE  PLUM   TREE 

nick-Croffut  men  voted  for  me.  On  the  seventy- 
ninth  ballot  I  got,  in  addition,  two  opposition 
votes  Woodruff  had  bought  for  me  at  eight  hun 
dred  dollars  apiece.  The  ballot  was:  Dunkirk, 
forty-one;  Grassmere,  (who  was  receiving  the 
opposition's  complimentary  vote)  thirty-six; 
Sayler,  forty-three.  I  was  a  Senator  of  the 
United  States. 

There  was  a  wild  scene.  Threats,  insults,  blows 
even,  were  exchanged.  And  down  at  the  Capital 
City  Hotel  Dunkirk  crawled  upon  a  table  and  de 
nounced  me  as  an  infamous  ingrate,  a  traitor,  a 
serpent  he  had  warmed  in  his  bosom.  But  the 
people  of  the  state  accepted  it  as  natural  and  satis 
factory  that  "the  vigorous  and  fearless  young 
chairman  of  the  party's  state  committee"  should 
be  agreed  on  as  a  compromise.  An  hour  after  that 
last  ballot,  he  hadn't  a  friend  left  except  some 
galling  sympathizers  from  whom  he  hid  him 
self.  Those  who  had  been  his  firmest  supporters 
were  paying  court  to  the  new  custodian  of  the 
plum  tree. 

The  governor  was  mine,  and  the  legislature. 
Mine  was  the  Federal  patronage,  also — all  of  it, 

I 


TO    THE   SEATS   OF   THE   MIGHTY         127 

if  I  chose,  for  Croffut  was  my  dependent,  though 
he  did  not  realize  it;  mine  also  were  the  indefi 
nitely  vast  resources  of  the  members  of  my  com 
bine.  Without  my  consent  no  man  could  get  of 
fice  anywhere  in  my  state,  from  governorship  and 
judgeship  down  as  far  as  I  cared  to  reach.  Sub 
ject  only  to  the  check  of  public  sentiment, — so 
easily  defeated  if  it  be  not  defied, — I  was  master 
of  the  making  and  execution  of  laws.  Why?  Not 
because  I  was  leader  of  the  dominant  party.  Not 
because  I  was  a  Senator  of  the  United  States. 
Solely  because  I  controlled  the  sources  of  the 
money  that  maintained  the  political  machinery  of 
both  parties.  The  hand  that  holds  the  purse 
strings  is  the  hand  that  rules, — if  it  knows  how 
to  rule ;  for  rule  is  power  plus  ability. 

7  •  JL  .,.-.••• •«»M«MWMMMNMMmHM4r 

I  was  not  master  because  I  had  the  plum  tree. 
I  had  the  plum  tree  because  I  was  master. 

The  legislature  attended  to  such  of  the  de 
mands  of  my  combine  and  such  of  the  demands  of 
the  public  as  I  thought  it  expedient  to  grant,  and 
then  adjourned.  Woodruff  asked  a  three  months' 
leave.  I  did  not  hear  from  or  of  him  until  mid- 


128  THE    PLUM   TREE 

summer,  when  he  sent  me  a  cablegram  from  Lon 
don.  He  was  in  a  hospital  there,  out  of  money 
and  out  of  health.  I  cabled  him  a  thousand  dol 
lars  and  asked  him  to  come  home  as  soon  as  he 
could.  It  was  my  first  personal  experience  with 
that  far  from  uncommon  American  type,  the  peri 
odic  drunkard.  I  had  to  cable  him  money  three 
times  before  he  started. 

When  he  came  to  me  at  Washington,  in  De 
cember,  he  looked  just  as  before, — calm,  robust, 
cool,  cynical,  and  dressed  in  the  very  extreme  of 
the  extreme  fashion.  I  received  him  as  if  nothing 
had  happened.  It  was  not  until  the  current  of 
mutual  liking  was  again  flowing  freely  between 
us  that  I  said:  "Doc,  may  I  impose  on  your 
friendship  to  the  extent  of  an  intrusion  into  your 
private  affairs?" 

He  started,  and  gave  me  a  quick  look,  his  color 
mounting.  "Yes,"  he  said  after  a  moment. 

"When  I  heard  from  you,"  I  went  on,  "I  made 
some  inquiries.  I  owe  you  no  apology.  You  had 
given  me  a  shock, — one  of  the  severest  of  my 
life.  But  they  told  me  that  you  never  let — that — 
that  peculiarity  of  yours  interfere  with  business." 


TO    THE    SEATS    OF   THE   MIGHTY         129 

His  head  was  hanging.  "I  always  go  away," 
he  said.  "Nobody  that  knows  me  ever  sees  me 
when — at  that  time." 

I  laid  my  hand  on  his  arm.  "Doc,  why  do  you 
do — that  sort  of  thing?" 

The  scar  came  up  into  his  face  to  put  agony 
into  the  reckless  despair  that  looked  from  his  eyes. 
For  an  instant  I  stood  on  the  threshold  of  his 
Chamber  of  Remorse  and  Vain  Regret, — and  well 
I  knew  where  I  was.  "Why  not?"  he  asked  bit 
terly.  "There's  always  a — sort  of  horror — in 
side  me.  And  it  grows  until  I  can't  bear  it.  And 
then — I  drown  it — why  shouldn't  I?" 

"That's  very  stupid  for  a  man  of  your  brains," 
said  I.  "There's  nothing — nothing  in  the  world, 
except  death — that  can  not  be  wiped  out  or  set 
right.  Play  the  game,  Doc.  Play  it  with  me  for 
five  years.  Play  it  for  all  there  is  in  it.  Then — 
go  back,  if  you  want  to." 

He  thought  a  long  time,  and  I  did  not  try  to 
hurry  him.  At  length  he  said,  in  his  old  off-hand 
manner:  "Well,  I'll  go  you,  Senator;  I'll  not 
touch  a  drop." 

And  he  didn't.    Whenever  I  thought  I  saw 


130  THE   PLUM   TREE 

signs  of  the  savage  internal  battle  against  the 
weakness,  I  gave  him  something  important  and 
absorbing  to  do,  and  I  kept  him  busy  until  I  knew 
the  temptation  had  lost  its  power  for  the  time. 

This  is  the  proper  place  to  put  it  on  the  record 
that  he  was  the  most  scrupulously  honest  man  I 
have  ever  known.  He  dealt  with  the  shadiest  and 
least  scrupulous  of  men — those  who  train  their 
consciences  to  be  the  eager  servants  of  their  appe 
tites;  he  handled  hundreds  of  thousands  of  dol 
lars,  millions,  first  and  last,  all  of  it  money  for 
which  he  could  never  have  been  forced  to  ac 
count.  He  has  had  at  one  time  as  much  as  half  a 
million  dollars  in  checks  payable  to  bearer.  I  am 
not  confiding  by  nature  or  training,  but  I  am 
confident  that  he  kept  not  a  penny  for  himself 
beyond  his  salary  and  his  fixed  commission.  I 
put  his  salary  at  the  outset,  at  ten  thousand  a 
year;  afterward,  at  fifteen;  finally,  at  twenty. 
His  commissions,  perhaps,  doubled  it. 

There  are  many  kinds  of  honesty  nowadays. 
There  is  "corporate  honesty,"  not  unlike  that  pro 
verbial  "honor  among  thieves/'  which  secures 
a  fair  or  fairly  fair  division  of  the  spoils.  Then 


TO   THE   SEATS   OF   THE   MIGHTY         131 

there  is  "personal  honesty,"  which  subdivides  into 
three  kinds — legal,  moral,  and  instinctive.  Legal 
honesty  needs  no  definition.  Moral  honesty  defies 
definition — how  untangle  its  intertwinings  of  mo 
tives  of  fear,  pride,  insufficient  temptation,  sacri 
fice  of  the  smaller  chance  in  the  hope  of  a  larger? 
Finally,  there  is  instinctive  honesty — the  rarest, 
the  only  bed-rock,  unassailable  kind.  Give  me  the 
man  who  is  honest  simply  because  it  never  occurs 
to  him,  and  never  could  occur  to  him,  to  be  any-  • 
thing  else.  That  is  Woodruff. 

There  is,  to  be  sure,  another  kind  of  instinc 
tively  honest  man — he  who  disregards  loyalty  as, 
well  as  self-interest  in  his  uprightness.  But  there 
are  so  few  of  these  in  practical  life  that  they  may 
be  disregarded. 

Perhaps  I  should  say  something  here  as  to  the 
finances  of  my  combine,  though  it  was  managed 
in  the  main  precisely  like  all  these  political-com 
mercial  machines  that  control  both  parties  in  all 
the  states,  except  a  few  in  the  South. 

My  assessments  upon  the  various  members  of 
my  combine  were  sent,  for  several  years,  to  me, 
afterward  to  Woodruff  directly,  in  one  thousand, 


132  THE   PLUM   TREE 

five  thousand,  and  ten  thousand  dollar  checks, 
sometimes  by  mail,  and  at  other  times  by  express 
or  messenger. 

These  checks  were  always  payable  to  bearer; 
and  I  made  through  Woodruff,  for  I  kept  to  the 
far  background  in  all  my  combine's  affairs,  an 
arrangement  with  several  large  banks  in  different 
parts  of  the  state,  including  one  at  the  capital, 
that  these  checks  were  to  be  cashed  without  ques 
tion,  no  matter  who  presented  them,  provided 
there  was  a  certain  flourish  under  the  line  where 
the  amount  was  written  in  figures.  Sometimes 
these  checks  were  signed  by  the  corporation,  and 
sometimes  they  were  the  personal  checks  of  the 
president  or  some  other  high  official.  Often  the 
signature  was  that  of  a  person  wholly  disconnect 
ed,  so  far  as  the  public  knew.  Once,  I  remember, 
Roebuck  sent  me  a  thousand  dollar  check  signed 
by  a  distinguished  Chicago  lawyer  who  was  just 
then  counsel  to  his  opponent  in  a  case  involving 
millions,  a  case  which  Roebuck  afterward  won! 

Who  presented  these  checks?  I  could  more 
easily  say  who  did  not. 

From  the  very  beginning  of  my  control  I  kept 


TO   THE   SEATS   OF   THE   MIGHTY         133 

my  promise  to  reduce  the  cost  of  thejplitical 
business  to  my  clients.  When,  I. .got  the  machine 
thoroughly  in  hand,  I  saw  I  could  make  it  cost 
them  less  than  a  third  of  what  they  had  been  pay 
ing,  on  the  average,  for  ten  years.  I  cut  off,  al 
most  at  a  stroke,  a  horde  of  lobbyists,  lawyers, 
threateners  without  influence,  and  hangers-on  of 
various  kinds.  I  reduced  the  payments  for  legis 
lation  to  a  system,  instead  of  the  shameless,  scan 
dal-creating  and  wasteful  auctioneering  that  had 
been  going  on  for  years. 

In  fact,  so  cheaply  did  I  run  the  machine  that 
I  saw  it  would  be  most  imprudent  to  let  my 
clients  have  the  full  benefit.  Cheapness  would 
have  made  them  uncontrollably  greedy  and  ex 
acting,  and  would  have  given  them  a  wholly  false 
idea  of  my  value  as  soon  as  it  had  slipped  their 
short  memories  how  dearly  they  used  to  pay. 

So  I  continued  to  make  heavy  assessments, 
and  put  by  the  surplus  in  a  reserve  fund  for 
emergencies.  I  thought,  for  example,  that  I 
might  some  day  have  trouble  with  one  or  more 
members  of  my  combine ;  my  reserve  would  sup- 


134  THE   PLUM   TREE 

ply  me  with  the  munitions  for  forcing  insurgents 
to  return  to  their  agreements. 

This  fund  was  in  no  sense  part  of  my  private 
fortune.  Nowhere  else,  I  think,  do  the  eccentrici 
ties  of  conscience  show  themselves  more  interest 
ingly  than  in  the  various  attitudes  of  the  various 
political  leaders  toward  the  large  sums  which  the 
exigencies  of  commercialized  politics  place  ab 
solutely  and  secretly  under  their  control.  I  have 
no  criticism  for  any  of  these  attitudes. 

I  have  lived  long  enough  and  practically 
enough  to  learn  not  to  criticize  the  morals  of 
men,  any  more  than  I  criticize  their  facial  con 
tour  or  their  physical  build.  "As  many  men,  so 
many  minds," — and  morals.  Wrong,  for  prac 
tical  purposes,  is  that  which  a  man  can  not  cajole 
or  compel  his  conscience  to  approve. 

It  so  happened  that  I  had  a  sense  that  to  use 
my  assessments  for  my  private  financial  profits 
would  be  wrong.  Therefore,  my  private  fortune 
has  been  wholly  the  result  of  the  opportunities 
which  came  through  my  intimacy  with  Roebuck 
and  such  others  of  the  members  of  my  combine 
as  were  personally  agreeable, — or,  perhaps  it 


TO   THE   SEATS   OF   THE   MIGHTY         135 

would  be  more  accurate  to  say,  not  disagreeable, 
for,  in  the  circumstances,  I  naturally  saw  a  side 
of  those  men  which  a  friend  must  never  see  in  a 
friend.  I  could  not  help  having  toward  most  of 
these  distinguished  clients  of  mine  much  the  feel 
ing  his  lawyer  has  for  the  guilty  criminal  he  is 
defending. 


X 


THE  FACE  IN  THE  CROWD 

Except  the  time  given  to  the  children, — there 
were  presently  three, — my  life,  in  all  its  thoughts 
and  associations,  was  now  politics :  at  Washing 
ton,  from  December  until  Congress  adjourned, 
chiefly  national  politics,  the  long  and  elaborate 
arrangements  preliminary  to  the  campaign  for 
the  conquest  of  the  national  fields;  at  home, 
chiefly  state  politics, — strengthening  my  hold  up 
on  the  combine,  strengthening  my  hold  upon  the 
two  political  machines.  As  the  days  and  the 
weeks,  the  months  and  the  years,  rushed  by,  as 
the  interval  between  breakfast  and  bedtime,  be 
tween  Sunday  and  Sunday,  between  election  day 
and  election  day  again,  grew  shorter  and  shorter, 
I  played  the  game  more  and  more  furiously. 
What  I  won,  once  it  was  mine,  seemed  worthless 
in  itself,  and  worth  while  only  if  I  could  gain  the 
next  point ;  and,  when  that  was  gained,  the  same 
story  was  repeated.  Whenever  I  paused  to  reflect, 
136 


THE   FACE  IN   THE   CROWD  137 

it  was  to  throttle  reflection  half-born,  and  hasten 
on  again. 

"A  silly  business,  this  living,  isn't  it?"  said 
Woodruff  to  me. 

"Yes, — but — "  replied  I.  "You  remember  the 
hare  and  the  hatter  in  Alice  in  Wonderland. 
'Why?'  said  the  hare.  'Why  not?'  said  the  hatter. 
A  sensible  man  does  not  interrogate  life;  he  lives 
it." 

"H'm,"  retorted  Woodruff. 

And  we  went  on  with  the  game, — shuffling, 
dealing,  staking.  But  more  and  more  frequently 
there  came  hours,  when,  against  my  will,  I  would 
pause,  drop  my  cards,  watch  the  others;  and  I 
w^ould  wonder  at  them,  and  at  myself,  the  mad 
dest  of  these  madmen, — and  the  saddest,  because 
I  had  moments  in  which  I  was  conscious  of  my 
own  derangement. 

I  have  often  thought  on  the  cause  of  this  dis 
satisfaction  which  has  never  ceased  to  gird  me, 
and  which  I  have  learned  girds  all  men  of  intelli 
gence  who  lead  an  active  life.  I  think  it  is  that 
such  men  are  like  a  civilized  man  who  has  to  live 
among  a  savage  tribe.  To  keep  alive,  to  have  in- 


138  THE   PLUM   TREE 

fluence,  he  must  pretend  to  accept  the  savage 
point  of  view,  must. pretend  to  disregard  his  own 
knowledge  and  intelligent  methods,  must  play 
the  game  of  life  with  the  crude,  clumsy  counters 
of  caste  and  custom  and  creed  and  thought  which 
the  savages  regard  as  fit  and  proper.  Intelligent 
men  of  action  do  see  as  clearly  as  the  philoso 
phers;  but  they  have  to  pretend  to  adapt  their 
mental  vision  to  that  of  the  mass  of  their  fellow 
men  or,  like  the  philosophers,  they  would  lead 
lives  of  profitless  inaction,  enunciating  truths 
which  are  of  no  value  to  mankind  until  it  redis 
covers  them  for  itself.  No  man  of  trained  reason 
ing  power  could  fail  to  see  that  the  Golden  Rule 
is  not  a  piece  of  visionary  altruism,  but  a  sound 
principle  of  practical  self-interest.  Or,  could  any 
thing  be  clearer,  to  one  who  takes  the  trouble 
really  to  think  about  it,  than  that  he  who  ad 
vances  himself  at  the  expense  of  his  fellow  men 
does  not  advance,  but  sinks  down  into  the  class 
of  murderers  for  gain,  thieves,  and  all  those  who 
seek  to  advance  themselves  by  injustice?  Yet,  so 
feeble  is  man's  reason,  so  near  to  the  brute  is  he, 
so  under  the  rule  of  brute  appetites,  that  he  can 


THE   FACE   IN   THE   CROWD  139 

not  think  beyond  the  immediate  apparent  good, 
beyond  to-day's  meal. 

I  once  said  to  Scarborough:  "Politics  is  the 
science  and  art  of  fooling  the  people." 

"That  is  true,  as  far  as  it  goes,"  he  said.  "If 
that  were  all,  justice,  which  is  only  another  name 
for  common  sense,  would  soon  be  established. 
But,  unfortunately,  politics  is  the  art  of  playing 
upon  cupidity,  the  art  of  fooling  the  people  into 
thinking  they  are  helping  to  despoil  the  other  fel 
low  and  will  get  a  share  of  the  swag." 

'And  he  was  right.  It  is  by  subtle  appeal  to  the 
secret  and  shamefaced,  but  controlling,  appetites 
of  men  that  the  clever  manipulate  them.  To  get 
a  man  to  vote  for  the  right  you  must  show  him 
that  he  is  voting  for  the  personally  profitable. 
And  very  slow  he  is  to  believe  that  what  is  right 
can  be  practically  profitable.  Have  not  the 
preachers  been  preaching  the  reverse  all  these 
years;  have  they  not  been  insisting  that  to  do 
right  means  treasure  in  Heaven  only? 

It  was  in  my  second  term  as  Senator,  toward 
the  middle  of  it.  I  was  speaking,  one  afternoon, 


140  THE   PLUM   TREE 

in  defense  of  a  measure  for  the  big  contributors, 
which  the  party  was  forcing  through  the  Senate 
in  face  of  fire  from  the  whole  country.  Person 
ally,  I  did  not  approve  the  measure.  It  was  a 
frontal  attack  upon  public  opinion,  and  frontal 
attacks  are  as  unwise  and  as  unnecessary  in  poli 
tics  as  in  war.  But  the  party  leaders  in  the  nation 
insisted,  and,  as  the  move  would  weaken  their 
hold  upon  the  party  and  so  improve  my  own 
chances,  I  was  not  deeply  aggrieved  that  my  ad 
vice  had  been  rejected.  Toward  the  end  of  my 
speech,  aroused  by  applause  from  the  visitors' 
gallery,  I  forgot  myself  and  began  to  look  up 
there  as  I  talked,  instead  of  addressing  myself  to 
my  fellow  Senators.  The  eyes  of  a  speaker  always 
wander  over  his  audience  in  search  of  eyes  that 
respond.  My  glance  wandered,  unconsciously, 
until  it  found  an  answering  glance  that  fixed  it. 

This  answering  glance  was  not  responsive,  nor 
even  approving.  It  was  the  reverse, — and,  in 
spite  of  me,  it  held  me.  At  first  it  was  just  a  pair 
of  eyes,  in  the  shadow  of  the  brim  of  a  woman's 
hat,  the  rest  of  the  face,  the  rest  of  the  woman, 
hid  by  those  in  front  and  on  either  side.  There 


THE   FACE   IN    THE   CROWD  141 

was  a  movement  among  them,  and  the  whole  face 
appeared, — and  I  stopped  short  in  my  speech.  I 
saw  only  the  face,  really  only  the  mouth  and  the 
eyes, — the  lips  and  the  eyes  of  Elizabeth  Crosby, 
— an  expression  of  pain,  and  of  pity. 

I  drank  from  the  glass  of  water  on  my  desk, 
and  went  on.  When  I  ventured  to  look  up  there 
again,  the  face  was  gone.  Had  I  seen  or  imag 
ined?  Was  it  she  or  was  it  only  memory  sud 
denly  awakening  and  silhouetting  her  upon  that 
background  of  massed  humanity  ?  I  tried  to  con 
vince  myself  that  I  had  only  imagined,  but  I  knew 
that  I  had  seen. 

Within  me — and,  I  suppose,  within  every  one 
else — there  is  a  dual  personality :  not  a  good  and 
a  bad,  as  is  so  often  shallowly  said ;  but  one  that 
does,  and  another  that  watches.  The  doer  seems 
to  me  to  be  myself;  the  watcher,  he  who  stands, 
like  an  idler  at  the  rail  of  a  bridge,  carelessly,  even 
indifferently,  observing  the  tide  of  my  thought 
and  action  that  flows  beneath, — who  is  he?  I  do 
not  know.  But  I  do  know  that  I  have  no  control 
over  him, — over  his  cynical  smile,  or  his  lip  curl 
ing  in  good-natured  contempt  of  me,  or  his  shrug 


142  THE   PLUM   TREE 

at  self-excuse,  or  his  moods  when  he  stares  down 
at  the  fretting  stream  with  a  look  of  weariness 
so  profound  that  it  is  tragic.  It  was  he  who  was 
more  interested  in  the  thoughts, — the  passion,  the 
protest,  the  defiance,  and  the  dread, — which  the 
sight  of  that  face  set  to  boiling  within  me.  Some 
times  he  smiled  cynically  at  the  turmoil,  and  at 
other  times  he  watched  it  with  what  seemed  to 
me  bitter  disgust  and  disappointment  and  regret. 

While  this  tempest  was  struggling  to  boil  over 
into  action,  Carlotta  appeared.  She  had  never 
stayed  long  at  Washington  after  the  first  winter; 
she  preferred,  for  the  children  and  perhaps  for 
herself,  the  quiet  and  the  greater  simplicity  of 
Fredonia.  But — "I  got  to  thinking  about  it,"  said 
she,  "and  it  seemed  to  me  a  bad  idea  for  a  man 
to  be  separated  so  long  from  his  wife  and  chil 
dren — and  home  influences." 

That  last  phrase  was  accompanied  by  one  of 
her  queer  shrewd  looks. 

"Your  idea  is  not  without  merit,"  replied  I  ju 
dicially. 

"What  are  you  smiling  at?"  she  demanded 
sharply. 


I   SAW    ONLY   THE   LIPS   AND    EYES   OF    ELIZABETH    CROSBY      /. 


THE   FACE   IN   THE   CROWD  143 

"If  it  was  a  smile,"  said  I,  "it  was  at  myself." 

"No,  you  were  laughing  at  me.  You  think  I 
am  jealous." 

"Of  what?  Of  whom?" 

She  looked  fixedly  at  me  and  finally  said:  "I 
want  to  tell  you  two  things  about  myself  and  you. 
The  first  is  that  I  am  afraid  of  you." 

"Why?"  said  I. 

"I  don't  know,"  she  answered. 

"And  the  second  confession?" 

"That  I  never  trust  you." 

"Why?" 

"I  don't  know." 

"Yet  you  are  always  telling  me  I  am  cold." 

She  laughed  shortly.  "So  is  a  stick  of  dyna 
mite,"  said  she. 

She  stayed  on  at  Washington. 


XI 

BURBANK 

It  was  through  Carlotta  that  I  came  to  know 
Burbank  well. 

He  was  in  the  House,  representing  the  eastern 
most  district  of  our  state.  I  had  disliked  him 
when  we  were  boys  in  the  state  assembly  together, 
and,  when  I  met  him  again  in  Washington,  he 
seemed  to  me  to  have  all  his  faults  of  fifteen  years 
before  aggravated  by  persistence  in  them.  Fi 
nally,  I  needed  his  place  in  Congress  for  a  useful 
lieutenant  of  Woodruff's  and  ordered  him  beaten 
for  the  renomination.  He  made  a  bitter  fight 
against  decapitation,  and,  as  he  was  popular  with 
the  people  of  his  district,  we  had  some  difficulty 
in  defeating  him.  But  when  he  was  beaten,  he 
was  of  course  helpless  and  hopelessly  discredited, 
— the  people  soon  forget  a  fallen  politician.  He 
"took  off  his  coat"  and  worked  hard  and  well 
for  the  election  of  the  man  who  had  euchred  him 
out  of  the  nomination.  When  he  returned  to 
144 


BURBANK  145 

Washington  to  finish  his  term,  he  began  a  double, 
desperate  assault  upon  my  friendship.  The  direct 
assault  was  unsuccessful, — I  understood  it,  and 
I  was  in  no  need  of  lieutenants.  More  than  I 
could  easily  take  care  of  were  already  striving  to 
serve  me,  scores  of  the  brightest,  most  ambitious 
young  men  of  the  state  eager  to  do  my  bidding, 
whatever  it  might  be,  in  the  hope  that  in  return 
I  would  "take  care  of"  them,  would  admit  them 
to  the  coveted  inclosure  round  the  plum  tree. 
The  plum  tree !  Is  there  any  kind  of  fruit  which 
gladdens  the  eyes  of  ambitious  man,  that  does  not 
glisten  upon  some  one  of  its  many  boughs,  heavy- 
laden  with  corporate  and  public  honors  and 
wealth  ? 

Burbank's  indirect  attack,  through  his  wife  and 
Carlotta,  fared  better. 

The  first  of  it  I  distinctly  recall  was  after  a 
children's  party  at  our  house.  Carlotta  singled 
out  Mrs.  Burbank  for  enthusiastic  commendation. 
"The  other  women  sent  nurses  with  their  chil 
dren,"  said  she,  "but  Mrs.  Burbank  came  herself. 
She  was  so  sweet  in  apologizing  for  coming.  She 
said  she  hadn't  any  nurse,  and  that  she  was  so 


146  THE   PLUM   TREE 

timid  about  her  children  that  she  never  could 
bring  herself  to  trust  them  to  nurses.  And  really, 
Harvey,  you  don't  know  how  nice  she  was  all  the 
afternoon.  She's  the  kind  of  mother  I  approve  of, 
the  kind  I  try  to  be.  Don't  you  admire  her  ?" 

"I  don't  know  her,"  said  I.  "The  only  time  I 
met  her  she  struck  me  as  being — well,  rather  si 
lent." 

"That's  it,"  she  exclaimed  triumphantly.  "She 
doesn't  care  a  rap  for  men.  She's  absorbed  in  her 
children  and  her  husband.  "  Then,  after  a  pause, 
she  added :  "Well,  she's  welcome  to  him.  I  can't 
see  what  she  finds  to  care  for." 

"Why?"  said  I. 

"Oh,  he's  distinguished-looking,  and  polite, 
offensively  polite  to  women — he  doesn't  under 
stand  them  at  all — thinks  they  like  deference  and 
flattery,  the  low-grade  molasses  kind  of  flattery. 
He  has  a  very  nice  smile.  But  he's  so  stilted 
and  tiresome,  always  serious, — and  such  a  pose! 
It's  what  I  call  the  presidential  pose.  No  doubt 
he'll  be  President  some  day." 

"Why?"  said  I.  It  is  amusing  to  watch  a  wom 
an  fumble  about  for  reasons  for  her  intuitions. 


BURBANK  147 

Carlotta  did  uncommonly  well.  "Oh,  I  don't 
know.  He's  the  sort  of  high-average  American 
that  the  people  go  crazy  about.  He — he — looks 
like  a  President,  that  sort  of — solemn — no-sense- 
of -humor,  Sunday  look, — you  know  what  I  mean. 
Anyhow,  he's  going  to  be  President." 

I  thought  not.  A  few  days  later,  while  what 
Carlotta  had  said  was  fresh  in  my  mind,  he  over 
took  me  walking  to  the  capitol.  As  we  went  on 
together,  I  was  smiling  to  myself.  He  certainly 
did  look  and  talk  like  a  President.  He  was  of  the 
average  height,  of  the  average  build,  and  of  a  sort 
of  average  facial  mold;  he  had  hair  that  was  a 
compromise  among  the  average  shades  of  brown, 
gray,  and  black,  with  a  bald  spot  just  where  most 
men  have  it. 

His  pose — I  saw  that  Carlotta  was  shrewdly 
right.  He  was  acutely  self-conscious,  and  was 
acting  his  pose  every  instant.  He  had  selected  it 
early  in  life ;  he  would  wear  it,  even  in  his  night 
shirt,  until  death.  He  said  nothing  brilliant,  but 
neither  did  he  say  anything  that  would  not  have 
been  generally  regarded  as  sound  and  sensible. 
His  impressive  manner  of  delivering  his  words 


148  THE   PLUM   TREE 

made  one  overvalue  the  freight  they  carried.  But 
I  soon  found,  for  I  studied  him  with  increasing 
interest,  thanks  to  my  new  point  of  view  upon 
him, — I  soon  found  that  he  had  one  quality  the 
reverse  of  commonplace.  He  had  magnetism. 

Whenever  a  new  candidate  was  proposed  for 
Mazarin's  service,  he  used  to  ask,  first  of  all, 
"Has  he  luck  ?"  My  first  question  has  been,  "Has 
he  magnetism?"  and  I  think  mine  is  the  better 
measure.  Such  of  one's  luck  as  is  not  the  blunder 
ing  blindness  of  one's  opponents  is  usually  the  re 
sult  of  one's  magnetism.  However,  it  is  about 
the  most  dangerous  of  the  free  gifts  of  nature, — 
which  are  all  dangerous.  Burbank's  merit  lay  in 
his  discreet  use  of  it.  It  compelled  men  to  center 
upon  him;  he  turned  this  to  his  advantage  by 
making  them  feel,  not  how  he  shone,  but  how 
'they  shone.  They  went  away  liking  him  because 
they  had  new  reasons  for  being  in  love  with  them 
selves. 

/  I  found  only  two  serious  weaknesses.  The  first 
/  was  that  he  lacked  the  moral  courage  boldly  to  do 
[  either  right  or  wrong.  That  explained  why,  in 
'spite  of  his  talents  for  impressing  people  both 


BURBANK  149 

privately  and  from  the  platform,  he  was  at  the 
end  of  his  political  career.  The  second  weakness 
was  that  he  was  ashamed  of  his  very  obscure  and 
humble  origin.  He  knew  that  his  being  "wholly 
self-made"  was  a  matchless  political  asset,  and  he 
used  it  accordingly.  But  he  looked  on  it  some 
what  as  the  beggar  looks  on  the  deformity  he  ex 
hibits  to  get  alms. 

Neither  weakness  made  him  less  valuable  to  my 
purpose, — the  first  one,  if  anything,  increased  his 
value.  I  wanted  an  instrument  that  was  capable, 
but  strong  only  when  I  used  it. 
/  I  wanted  a  man  suitable  for  development  first 
into  governor  of  my  state,  and  then  into  a  Presi 
dent.  I  could  not  have  got  the  presidency  for 
,  myself,  but  neither  did  I  want  it.  My  longings 
were  all  for  power, — the  reality,  not  the  shadow. 
In  a  republic  the  man  who  has  the  real  power 
must  be  out  of  view.  If  he  is  within  view,  a  mil 
lion  hands  stretch  to  drag  him  from  the  throne. 
He  must  be  out  of  view,  putting  forward  his  pup 
pets  and  changing  them  when  the  people  grow 
bored  or  angry  with  them.  And  the  President — 
in  all  important  matters  he  must  obey  his  party, 


ISO  THE   PLUM   TREE 

which  is,  after  all,  simply  the  "interests"  that 
finance  it;  in  unimportant  matters,  his  so-called 
power  is  whittled  down  by  the  party's  leaders  and 
workers,  whose  requirements  may  not  be  disre 
garded.  He  shakes  the  plum  tree,  but  he  does 
it  under  orders;  others  gather  the  fruit,  and  he 
gets  only  the  exercise  and  the  "honor." 

I  had  no  yearning  for  puppetship,  however  ex 
alted  the  title  or  sonorous  the  fame ;  but  to  be  the 
power  that  selects  the  king-puppet  of  the  political 
puppet-hierarchy,  to  be  the  power  that  selects 
and  rules  him, — that  was  the  logical  development 
of  my  career. 

In  Burbank  I  thought  I  had  found  a  man 
worthy  to  wear  the  puppet  robes, — one  who  would 
glory  in  them.  He,  like  most  of  the  other  am 
bitious  men  I  have  known,  cared  little  who  was 
behind  the  throne,  provided  he  himself  was  seated 
upon  it,  the  crown  on  his  head  and  the  crowds 
tossing  the  hats  that  shelter  their  dim-thinking 
brains.  Also,  in  addition  to  magnetism  and  pres 
ence,  he  had  dexterity  and  distinction  and  as 
much  docility  as  can  be  expected  in  a  man  big 
enough  to  use  for  important  work. 


BURBANK  151 

In  September  I  gave  him  our  party  nomination 
for  governor.  In  our  one-sided  state  that  meant 
his  election. 

As  I  had  put  him  into  the  governorship  not  so 
much  for  use  there  as  for  use  thereafter,  it  was 
necessary  to  protect  him  from  my  combine,  which 
had  destroyed  his  two  immediate  predecessors  by 
over-use, — they  had  become  so  unpopular  that 
their  political  careers  ended  with  their  terms. 
Protect  him  I  must,  though  the  task  would  be 
neither  easy  nor  pleasant.  It  involved  a  collision 
with  my  clients, — a  square  test  of  strength  be 
tween  us.  What  was  to  me  far  more  repellent,  it 
involved  my  personally  taking  a  hand  in  that  part 
of  my  political  work  which  I  had  hitherto  left  to 
Woodruff  and  his  lieutenants. 

One  does  not  in  person  chase  and  catch  and  kill 
and  dress  and  serve  the  chicken  he  has  for  dinner ; 
he  orders  chicken,  and  hears  and  thinks  no  more 
about  it  until  it  is  served.  Thus,  all  the  highly  dis 
agreeable  part  of  my  political  work  was  done  by 
others;  Woodruff,  admirably  capable  and  most 
careful  to  spare  my  feelings,  received  the  de 
mands  of  my  clients  from  their  lawyers  and  trans- 


152  THE   PLUM   TREE 

mitted  them  to  the  party  leaders  in  the  legislature 
with  the  instructions  how  the  machinery  was  to 
be  used  in  making  them  into  law.  As  I  was 
financing  the  machines  of  both  parties,  his  task 
was  not  difficult,  though  delicate. 

But  now  that  I  began  to  look  over  Woodruff's 
legislative  program  in  advance,  I  was  amazed  at 
the  rapacity  of  my  clients,  rapacious  though  I 
knew  them  to  be.  I  had  been  thinking  that  the 
independent  newspapers — there  were  a  few  such, 
but  of  small  circulation  and  influence — were  ma 
lignant  in  their  attacks  upon  my  "friends."  In 
fact,  as  I  soon  saw,  they  had  told  only  a  small 
part  of  the  truth.  They  had  not  found  out  the 
worst  things  that  were  done;  nor  had  they 
grasped  how  little  the  legislature  and  the  gover 
nor  were  doing  other  than  the  business  of  the  big 
corporations,  most  of  it  of  doubtful  public  bene 
fit,  to  speak  temperately.  An  hour's  study  of  the 

•facts  and  I  realized  as  never  before  why  we  are 
so  rapidly  developing  a  breed  of  multi-million- 

\aires  in  this  country  with  all  the  opportunities  to 
wealth  in  their  hands.  I  had  only  to  remember 
that  the  system  which  ruled  my  own  state  was  in 


BURBANK  153 

full  blast  in  every  one  of  the  states  of  the  Union. 
Everywhere,  no  sooner  do  the  people  open  or  pro 
pose  to  open  a  new  road  into  a  source  of  wealth, 
than  men  like  these  clients  of  mine  hurry  to  the 
politicians  and  buy  the  rights  to  set  up  toll-gates 
and  to  fix  their  own  schedule  of  tolls. 

However,  the  time  had  now  come  when  I  must 
assert  myself.  I  made  no  radical  changes  in  that 
first  program  of  Burbank's  term.  I  contented 
myself  with  cutting  off  the  worst  items,  those  it 
would  have  ruined  Burbank  to  indorse.  My 
clients  were  soon  grumbling,  but  Woodruff  han 
dled  them  well,  placating  them  with  excuses  that 
soothed  their  annoyance  to  discontented  silence. 
So  ably  did  he  manage  it  that  not  until  Burbank's 
third  year  did  they  begin  to  come  directly  to  me 
and  complain  of  the  way  they  were  being 
"thrown  down"  at  the  capitol. 

Roebuck,  knowing  me  most  intimately  and 
feeling  that  he  was  my  author  and  protector,  was 
frankly  insistent.  "We  got  almost  nothing  at  the 
last  session,"  he  protested,  "and  this  winter — 
Woodruff  tells  me  we  may  not  get  the  only  thing 
we're  asking." 


154  THE   PLUM   TREE 

I  was  ready  for  him,  as  I  was  for  each  of  the 
ten.  I  took  out  the  list  of  measures  passed  or 
killed  at  the  last  session  in  the  interest  of  the 
Power  Trust.  It  contained  seventy-eight  items, 
thirty-four  of  them  passed.  I  handed  it  to  him. 

"Yes, — a  few  things,"  he  admitted,  "but  all 
trifles!" 

"That  little  amendment  to  the  Waterways  law 
must  alone  have  netted  you  three  or  four  mil 
lions  already." 

"Nothing  like  that.   Nothing  like  that." 

"I  can  organize  a  company  within  twenty-four 
hours  that  will  pay  you  four  millions  in  cash  for 
the  right,  and  stock  besides." 

He  did  not  take  up  my  offer. 

"You  have  already  had  thirteen  matters  at 
tended  to  this  winter,"  I  pursued.  "The  one  that 
can't  be  done — Really,  Mr.  Roebuck,  the  whole 
state  knows  that  the  trustees  of  the  Waukeegan 
Christian  University  are  your  dummies.  It  would 
be  insanity  for  the  party  to  turn  over  a  hundred 
thousand  acres  of  valuable  public  land  gratis  to 
them,  so  that  they  can  presently  sell  it  to  you  for 
a  song." 


BURBANK  155 

He  reddened.  "Newspaper  scandal!"  he  blus 
tered,  but  changed  the  subject  as  soon  as  he  had 
shown  me  and  re-shown  himself  that  his  motives 
were  pure. 

I  saw  that  Burbank's  last  winter  was  to  be 
crucial.  My  clients  were  clamorous,  and  were 
hinting  at  all  sorts  of  dire  doings  if  they  were  not 
treated  better.  Roebuck  was  questioning,  in  the 
most  malignantly  friendly  manner,  "whether, 
after  all,  Harvey,  the  combine  isn't  a  mistake, 
and  the  old  way  wasn't  the  best."  On  the  other 
hand  Burbank  was  becoming  restless.  He  had 
so  cleverly  taken  advantage  of  the  chances  to  do 
popular  things,  which  I  had  either  made  for  him 
or  pointed  out  to  him,  that  he  had  become  some 
thing  of  a  national  figure.  When  he  got  eighty- 
one  votes  for  the  presidential  nomination  in  our 
party's  national  convention  his  brain  was  dizzied. 
Now  he  was  in  a  tremor  lest  my  clients  should 
demand  of  him  things  that  would  diminish  or  de 
stroy  this  sapling  popularity  which,  in  his 
dreams,  he  already  saw  grown  into  a  mighty  tree 
obscuring  the  national  heavens. 

I  gave  many  and  many  an  hour  to  anxious 


156  THE   PLUM   TREE 

thought  and  careful  planning  that  summer  and 
fall.  It  was  only  a  few  days  before  Doc  Wood 
ruff  appeared  at  Fredonia  with  the  winter's  legis 
lative  program  that  I  saw  my  way  straight  to 
what  I  hoped  was  broad  day.  The  program  he 
brought  was  so  outrageous  that  it  was  funny. 
There  was  nothing  in  it  for  the  Ramsay  interests, 
but  each  of  the  other  ten  had  apparently  exhaust 
ed  the  ingenuity  of  its  lawyers  in  concocting  de 
mands  that  would  have  wrecked  for  ever  the 
party  granting  them. 

"Our  friends  are  modest,"  said  I. 

"They've  gone  clean  crazy,"  replied  Woodruff. 
"And  if  you  could  have  heard  them  talk!  It's 
impossible  to  make  them  see  that  anybody  has 
any  rights  but  themselves." 

"Well,  let  me  have  the  details,"  said  I.  "Ex 
plain  every  item  on  this  list;  tell  me  just  what  it 
means,  and  just  how  the  lawyers  propose  to  dis 
guise  it  so  the  people  won't  catch  on." 

When  he  finished,  I  divided  the  demands  into 
three  classes, — the  impossible,  the  possible,  and 
the  practicable.  "Strike  out  all  the  impossible," 
I  directed.  "Cut  down  the  possible  to  the  ten 


BURBANK  157 

that  are  least  outrageous.    Those  ten  and  the 
practicable  must  be  passed." 

He  read  off  the  ten  which  were  beyond  the 
limits  of  prudence,  but  not  mob-and-hanging  mat 
ters.  "We  can  pass  them,  of  course,"  was  his 
comment.  "We  could  pass  a  law  ordering  the 
state  house  burned,  but — " 

"Precisely,"  said  I.  "I  think  the  consequences 
will  be  interesting."  I  cross-marked  the  five 
worst  of  the  ten  possibilities.  "Save  those  until 
the  last  weeks  of  the  session." 

Early  in  the  session  Woodruff  began  to  push 
the  five  least  bad  of  the  bad  measures  on  to  the 
calendar  of  the  legislature,  one  by  one.  When 
the  third  was  introduced,  Burbank  took  the 
Limited  for  Washington.  He  arrived  in  time  to 
join  my  wife  and  my  little  daughter  Frances  and 
me  at  breakfast.  He  was  so  white  and  sunken- 
eyed  and  his  hands  were  so  unsteady  that  Frances 
tried  in  vain  to  take  her  solemn,  wondering,  pity 
ing  gaze  from  his  face.  As  soon  as  my  study 
door  closed  behind  us,  he  burst  out,  striding  up 
and  down. 

"I    don't    know   what  to   think,    Sayler,"   he 


158  THE   PLUM  TREE 

cried,  "I  don't  know  what  to  think!  The  de 
mands  of  these  corporations  have  been  growing, 
growing,  growing!  And  now — You  have  seen 
the  calendar  ?" 

"Yes,"  said  I.  "Some  of  the  bills  are  pretty 
stiff,  aren't  they?  But  the  boys  tell  me  they're 
for  our  best  friends,  and  that  they're  all  neces 
sary." 

"No  doubt,  no  doubt,"  he  replied,  "but  it  will 
be  impossible  to  reconcile  the  people."  Suddenly 
he  turned  on  me,  his  eyes  full  of  fear  and  sus 
picion.  "Have  you  laid  a  plot  to  ruin  me,  Sayler? 
It  certainly  looks  that  way.  Have  you  a  secret 
ambition 'for  the  presidency — " 

"Don't  talk  rubbish,  James,"  I  interrupted. 
Those  few  meaningless  votes  in  the  national  con 
vention  had  addled  his  common  sense.  "Sit 
down, — calm  yourself, — tell  me  all  about  it." 

He  seated  himself  and  ran  his  fingers  up  and 
down  his  temples  and  through  his  wet  hair  that 
was  being  so  rapidly  thinned  and  whitened  by  the 
struggles  and  anxieties  of  his  ambition.  "My 
God !"  he  cried  out,  "how  I  am  punished !  When 
I  started  in  my  public  career,  I  looked  forward 


BURBANK  159 

and  saw  just  this  time, — when  I  should  be  the 
helpless  tool  in  the  hands  of  the  power  I  sold 
myself  to.  Governor!"  He  almost  shouted  the 
word,  rising  and  pacing  the  floor  again.  "Gov 
ernor  !" — and  he  laughed  in  wild  derision. 

I  watched  him,  fascinated.  I,  too,  at  the  out 
set  of  my  career,  had  looked  forward,  and  had 
seen  the  same  peril,  but  I  had  avoided  it. 
Wretched  figure  that  he  was! — what  more 
wretched,  more  pitiable  than  a  man  groveling  and 
moaning  in  the  mire  of  his  own  self -contempt? 
"Governor!"  I  said  to  myself,  as  I  saw  awful 
thoughts  flitting  like  demons  of  despair  across  his 
face.  And  I  shuddered,  and  pitied,  and  rejoiced, 
— shuddered  at  the  narrowness  of  my  own 
escape;  pitied  the  man  who  seemed  myself  as  I 
might  have  been ;  and  rejoiced  that  I  had  had  my 
mother  with  me  and  in  me  to  impel  me  into  an 
other  course. 

"Come,  come,  Burbank,"  said  I,  "you're  not 
yourself;  you've  lost  sleep — " 

"Sleep !"  he  interrupted,  "I  have  not  closed  my 
eyes  since  I  read  those  cursed  bills." 

"Tell  me  what  you  want  done,"  was  my  sug- 


160  THE   PLUM   TREE 

gestion.  "I'll  help  in  any  way  I  can, — any  way 
that's  practicable." 

"Oh,  I  understand  your  position,  Sayler,"  he 
answered,  when  he  had  got  control  of  himself 
again,  "but  I  see  plainly  that  the  time  has  come 
when  the  power  that  rules  me, — that  rules  us 
both, — has  decided  to  use  me  to  my  own  destruc 
tion.  If  I  refuse  to  do  these  things,  it  will  destroy 
me, — and  a  hundred  are  eager  to  come  forward 
and  take  my  place.  If  I  do  these  things,  the  peo 
ple  will  destroy  me, — and  neither  is  that  of  the 
smallest  importance  to  our  master." 

His  phrases,  "the  power  that  rules  us  both," 

'and  "our  master,"  jarred  on  me.    So  far  as  he 

knew,  indeed,  so  far  as  "our  master"  knew,  were 

/not  he  and  I  in  the  same  class  ?  But  that  was  no 

I  time  for  personal  vanity.   All  I  said  was:   "The 

bills  must  go  through.  This  is  one  of  those  crises 

th&t  test  a  man's  loyalty  to  the  party." 

"For  the  good  of  the  party !"  he  muttered  with 
a  bitter  sneer.  "Crime  upon  crime — yes,  crime, 
I  say — that  the  party  may  keep  the  favor  of  the 
powers !  And  to  what  end  ?  to  what  good  ?  Why, 
that  the  party  may  continue  in  control  and  so 


BURBANK  161 

may  be  of  further  use  to  its  rulers.'*  He  rested 
his  elbows  on  the  table  and  held  his  face  between 
his  hands.  He  looked  terribly  old,  and  weary 
beyond  the  power  ever  to  be  rested  again.  "I 
stand  with  the  party, — what  am  I  without  it?" 
he  went  on  in  a  dull  voice.  "The  people  may  for 
get,  but,  if  I  offend  the  master, — he  never  for 
gives  or  forgets.  I'll  sign  the  bills,  Sayler, — if 
they  come  to  me  as  party  measures." 

Burbank  had  responded  to  the  test. 

A  baser  man  would  have  acted  as  scores  of 
governors,  mayors,  and  judges  have  acted  in  the 
same  situation — would  have  accepted  popular 
ruin  and  would  have  compelled  the  powers  to 
make  him  rich  in  compensation.  A  braver  man 
would  have  defied  it  and  the  powers,  would  have 
appealed  to  the  people — with  one  chance  of  win 
ning  out  against  ten  thousand  chances  of  being 
disbelieved  and  laughed  at  as  a  "man  who  thinks 
he's  too  good  for  his  party."  Burbank  was 
neither  too  base  nor  too  brave ;  clearly,  I  assured 
myself,  he  is  the  man  I  want.  I  felt  that  I  might 
safely  relieve  his  mind,  so  far  as  I  could  do  so 
without  letting  him  too  far  into  my  secret  plans. 


162  THE   PLUM   TREE 

I  had  not  spent  five  minutes  in  explanation 
before  he  was  up,  his  face  radiant,  and  both 
hands  stretched  out  to  me. 

"Forgive  me,  Harvey!"  he  cried.  "I  shall 
never  distrust  you  again.  I  put  my  future  in 
your  hands." 


XII 

BURBANK   FIRES  THE   POPULAR   HEART 

That  was,  indeed,  a  wild  winter  at  the  state 
capital,  —  a  "carnival  of  corruption,"  the  news 
papers  of  other  states  called  it.  One  of  the  first 
of  the  "black  bills"  to  go  through  was  a  dis- 

Senator 


Cr  offuL  go  t  a  harrdsonre^  "counsel  fee"-  o  f  fi  f  ty- 
odd  thousand  dollars.  But  as  the  rout  went  on, 
ever  more  audaciously  and  recklessly,  he  became 
uneasy.  In  mid-February  he  was  urging  me  to 
go  West  and  try  to  do  something  to  "curb  those 
infernal  grabbers."  I  refused  to  interfere.  He 
went  himself,  and  Woodruff  reported  to  me  that 
he  was  running  round  the  state  house  and  the 
hotels  like  a  crazy  man;  for  when  he  got  into 
the  thick  of  it,  he  realized  that  it  was  much  worse 
than  it  seemed  from  Washington.  In  a  few  days 
he  was  back  and  at  me  again. 

"It's  very  strange,"  said  he  suspiciously.  "The 
boys  say  they're  getting  nothing  out  of  it.   They 
declare  they're  simply  obeying  orders." 
163 


164  THE   PLUM   TREE 

"Whose  orders?"  I  asked. 

"I  don't  know,"  he  answered,  his  eyes  sharply 
upon  me.  "But  I  do  know  that,  unless  some 
thing  is  done,  I'll  not  be  returned  to  the  Senate. 
We'll  lose  the  legislature,  sure,  next  fall." 

"It  does  look  that  way,"  I  said  with  a  touch 
of  melancholy.  "That  street  railway  grab  was 
the  beginning  of  our  rake's  progress.  We've 
been  going  it,  hell  bent,  ever  since." 

He  tossed  his  handsome  head  and  was  about 
to  launch  into  an  angry  defense  of  himself.  But 
my  manner  checked  him.  He  began  to  plead. 
"You  can  stop  it,  Sayler.  Everybody  out  there 
says  you  can.  And,  if  I  am  reflected,  I've  got  a 
good  chance  for  the  presidential  nomination. 
Should  I  get  it  and  be  elected,  we  could  form  a 
combination  that  would  interest  you,  I  think." 

It  was  a  beautiful  irony  that  in  his  conceit  he 
should  give  as  his  reason  why  I  should  help  him 
the  very  reason  why  I  was  not  sorry  he  was  to 
be  beaten.  For,  although  he  was  not  dangerous, 
still  he  was  a  rival  public  figure  to  Burbank  in 
our  state,  and, — well,  accidents  sometimes  hap 
pen,  unless  they're  guarded  against. 


BURBANK   FIRES   THE   PUBLIC   HEART    165 

"What  shall  I  do?"  I  asked  him. 

"Stop  them  from  passing  any  more  black  bills. 
Why,  they've  got  half  a  dozen  ready,  some  of 
them  worse  even  than  the  two  they  passed  over 
Burbank's  veto,  a  week  ago." 

"For  instance?" 

He  cited  three  Power  Trust  bills. 

"But  why  don't  you  stop  those  three?"  said 
I.  "They're  under  the  special  patronage  of  Dom- 
inick.  You  have  influence  with  him." 

"Dominick!"  he  groaned.  "Are  you  sure?" 
And  when  I  nodded  emphatically,  he  went  on: 
"I'll  do  what  I  can,  but—"  He  threw  up  his 
hands. 

He  was  off  for  the  West  that  night.  When  he 
returned,  his  face  wore  the  look  of  doom.  He 
had  always  posed  for  the  benefit  of  the  galleries, 
especially  the  women  in  the  galleries.  But  now 
he  became  sloven  in  dress,  often  issued  forth  un 
shaven,  and  sat  sprawled  at  his  desk  in  the  Sen 
ate,  his  chin  on  his  shirt  bosom,  looking  vague 
and  starting  when  any  one  spoke  to  him. 

Following  my  advice  on  the  day  when  I  sent 
him  away  happy,  Burbank  left  the  capital  and 


166  THE   PLUM   TREE 

the  state  just  before  the  five  worst  bills  left  the 
committees.  He  was  called  to  the  bedside  of  his 
wife  who,  so  all  the  newspapers  announced,  was 
at  the  point  of  death  at  Colorado  Springs. 

While  he  was  there  nursing  her  as  she 
"hovered  between  life  and  death,"  the  bills  were 
jammed  through  the  senate  and  the  assembly. 

He  telegraphed  the  lieutenant  governor  not  to 
sign  them,  as  he  was  returning  and  wished  to 
deal  with  them  himself.  He  reached  the  capital 
on  a  Thursday  morning,  sent  the  bills  back  with 
a  "ringing"  veto  message,  and  took  the  late 
afternoon  train  for  Colorado  Springs.  It  was  as 
good  a  political  "grand-stand  play"  as  ever 
thrilled  a  people. 

The  legislature  passed  the  bills  over  his  veto 
and  adjourned  that  night. 

Press  and  people,  without  regard  to  party 
lines,  were  loud  in  their  execrations  of  the  "aban 
doned  and  shameless  wretches"  who  had  "be 
trayed  the  state  and  had  covered  themselves  with 
eternal  infamy."  I  quote  from  an  editorial  in  the 
newspaper  that  was  regarded  as  my  personal  or 
gan.  But  there  was  only  praise  for  Burbank ;  his 


BURBANK   FIRES   THE   PUBLIC   HEART    167 

enemies,  and  those  who  had  doubted  his  inde 
pendence  and  had  suspected  him  of  willingness 
to  do  anything  to  further  his  personal  ambitions, 
admitted  that  he  had  shown  "fearless  courage, 
inflexible  honesty,  and  the  highest  ideals  of 
private  sacrifice  to  public  duty."  And  they 
eagerly  exaggerated  him,  to  make  his  white  con 
trast  more  vividly  with  the  black  of  the  "satanic 
spawn"  in  the  legislature.  His  fame  spread,  car 
ried  far  and  wide  by  the  sentimentality  in  that 
supposed  struggle  between  heart  and  conscience, 
between  love  for  the  wife  of  his  bosom  and  duty 
to  the  people. 

Carlotta,  who  like  most  women  took  no  inter 
est  in  politics  because  it  lacks  "heart-interest," 
came  to  me  with  eyes  swimming  and  cheeks 
aglow.  She  had  just  been  reading  about  Bur- 
bank's  heroism. 

"Isn't  he  splendid!"  she  cried.  "I  always  told 
you  he'd  be  President.  And  you  didn't  believe 
me." 

"Be  patient  with  me,  my  dear,"  said  I.  "I  am 
not  a  woman  with  seven-league  boots  of  intui 
tion.  I'm  only  a  heavy-footed  man." 


XIII 

ROEBUCK  &  CO.  PASS  UNDER  THE  YOKE 

And  now  the  stage  had  been  reached  at  which 
my  ten  mutinous  clients  could  be,  and  must  be, 
disciplined. 

As  a  first  step,  I  resigned  the  chairmanship 
of  the  state  committee  and  ordered  the  election 
of  Woodruff  to  the  vacancy.  I  should  soon  have 
substituted  Woodruff  for  myself,  in  any  event. 
I  had  never  wanted  the  place,  and  had  taken  it 
only  because  to  refuse  it  would  have  been  to 
throw  away  the  golden  opportunity  Dunkirk  so 
unexpectedly  thrust  at  me.  Holding  that  posi 
tion,  or  any  other  officially  connecting  me  with 
my  party's  machine,  made  me  a  target;  and  I 
wished  to  be  completely  hidden,  for  I  wished  the 
people  of  my  state  to  think  me  merely  one  of  the 
party  servants,  in  sympathy  with  the  rank  and 
file  rather  than  with  the  machine.  Yet,  in  the 
chairmanship,  in  the  targetship,  I  must  have  a 
man  whom  I  could  trust  through  and  through; 
168 


ROEBUCK  &  CO.  PASS  UNDER  THE  YOKE    169 

and,  save  Woodruff,  who  was  there  for  the 
place  ? 

When  my  resignation  was  announced,  the  in 
dependent  and  the  opposition  press  congratulated 
me  on  my  high  principle  in  refusing  to  have  any 
official  connection  with  the  machine  responsible 
for  such  infamies.  When  Woodruff's  election 
was  announced  it  came  as  a  complete  surprise. 
Such  of  the  newspapers  as  dared,  and  they  were 
few,  denounced  it  as  infamy's  crown  of  infamy; 
and  the  rank  and  file  of  the  party  was  shocked, 
— as  I  had  known  it  would  be.  He  made  not  a 
murmur,  but  I  knew  what  must  be  in  his  mind. 
I  said  nothing  until  six  weeks  or  two  months 
had  passed ;  then  I  went  straight  at  him. 

"You  are  feeling  bitter  against  me,"  said  I. 
"You  think  I  dropped  out  when  there  was  danger 
of  heavy  firing,  and  put  you  up  to  take  it." 

"No,  indeed,  Senator,"  he  protested,  "noth 
ing  like  that.  Honestly,  I  have  not  had  a  bitter 
thought  against  you.  I'm  depressed  simply  be 
cause,  just  as  I  had  a  chance  to  get  on  my  feet 
again,  they  won't  let  me." 

"But,"  I  rejoined,  "I  did  resign  and  put  you 


i;o  THE   PLUM   TREE 

in  my  place  because  I  didn't  want  to  take  the  fire 
and  thought  you  could." 

"And  so  I  can,"  said  he.  "I  haven't  any  repu 
tation  to  lose.  I'm  no  worse  off  than  I  was  be 
fore.  Let  'em  do  their  damnedest." 

"Your  first  campaign  will  probably  be  a  fail 
ure,"  I  went  on,  "and,  the  day  after  election, 
there'll  be  a  shout  for  your  head." 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "I'm  enlisted  for 
the  war,"  said  he.  "You're  my  general.  I  go 
where  you  order." 

I  hope  the  feelings  that  surged  up  in  me 
showed  in  my  face,  as  I  stretched  out  my  hand. 
"Thank  you,  Doc,"  said  I.  "And— there's  an 
other  side  to  it.  It  isn't  all  black." 

"It  isn't  black  at  all,"  he  replied  stoutly. 

I  explained:  "I've  wanted  you  to  have  the 
place  from  the  outset.  But  I  shouldn't  dare  give 
it  to  you  except  at  a  time  like  this,  when  our 
party  has  done  so  many  unpopular  things  that 
one  more  won't  count ;  and  there's  so  much  to  be 
said  against  us,  so  much  worse  things  than  they 
can  possibly  make  out  your  election  to  be,  that 
it'll  soon  be  almost  neglected." 


ROEBUCK  &  CO.  PASS  UNDER  THE  YOKE    171 

"They're  beginning  to  drop  me  already  and 
go  back  to  harrying  those  poor  devils  of  ours  in 
the  legislature,"  said  Woodruff. 

"A  few  weeks  more,"  I  went  on,  "and  you'll 
be  safe  and  you  are  to  stay  chairman,  no  matter 
what  happens.  When  they  have  leisure  to  attack 
you,  there'll  be  nothing  to  attack.  The  people 
will  have  dismissed  the  matter  from  their  minds. 
They  don't  care  to  watch  the  threshing  of  old 
straw." 

I  saw  that  I  had  lifted  a  weight  from  him, 
though  he  said  nothing. 

So  much  for  my  first  move  toward  the  chas 
tening  of  my  clients.  Further  and  even  more 
effective  in  the  same  direction,  I  cut  down  our 
campaign  fund  for  the  legislative  ticket  to  one- 
fifth  what  it  usually  was;  and,  without  even 
Woodruff's  knowing  it,  J  heavily  subsidized  the 
oppositioji^jjiaekHrer  Wherever  it  could  be  done 
with  safety  I  arranged  for  the  trading  off  of  our 
legislative  ticket  for  our  candidate  for  governor. 
"The  legislature  is  hopelessly  lost,"  I  told  Wood 
ruff;  "we  must  concentrate  on  the  governorship. 
We  must  save  what  we  can."  In  fact,  so  over- 


172  THE   PLUM   TREE 

whelmingly  was  our  party  in  the  majority,  and 
so  loyal  were  its  rank  and  file,  that  it  was  only 
)y  the  most  careful  arrangement  of  weak  can- 
lidates  and  of  insufficient  campaign  funds  that 
fl  was  able  to  throw  the  legislature  to  the  oppo 
sition.  Our  candidate  for  governor,  Walbrook — 
Burbank  was  ineligible  to  a  second  successive 
term — was  elected  by  a  comfortable  plurality. 
And,  by  the  way,  I  saw  to  it  that  the  party  organs 
gave  Woodruff  enthusiastic  praise  for  rescuing  so 
much  from  what  had  looked  like  utter  ruin. 

My  clients  had  been  uneasy  ever  since  the 
furious  popular  outburst  which  had  followed 
their  breaking  away  from  my  direction  and  re 
straint.  When  they  saw  an  opposition  legisla 
ture,  they  readily  believed  what  they  read  in  the 
newspapers  about  the  "impending  reign  of  radi 
calism."  Silliman,  the  opposition  leader,  had  ac 
cepted  John  Markham's  offer  of  one  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand  dollars  for  Croffut's  seat  in  the 
Senate;  but  I  directed  him  to  send  Veerhoft,  one 
of  the  wildest  and  cleverest  of  the  opposition 
radicals.  He  dared  not  disobey  me.  Veerhoft 
went,  and  Markham  never  saw  again  the  seven- 


ROEBUCK  &  CO.  PASS  UNDER  THE  YOKE    173 

ty-five  thousand  he  had  paid  Silliman  as  a  "re 
tainer." 

Veerhoft  in  the  United  States  Senate  gave  my 
clients  the  chills;  but  I  was  preparing  the  fever 
for  them  also.  I  had  Silliman  introduce  bills  in 
both  houses  of  the  legislature  that  reached  for 
the  privileges  of  the  big  corporations  and  in 
itiated  proceedings  to  expose  their  corruption.  I 
had  Woodruff  suggest  to  Governor  Walbrook 
that,  in  view  of  the  popular  clamor,  he  ought  to 
recommend  measures  for  equalizing  taxation  and 
readjusting  the  prices  of  franchises.  As  my 
clients  were  bonded  and  capitalized  on  the  basis 
of  no  expense  either  for  taxes  or  for  franchises, 
the  governor's  suggestion,  eagerly  adopted  by 
Silliman's  "horde,"  foreshadowed  ruin.  If  the 
measures  should  be  passed,  all  the  dividends  and 
interest  they  were  paying  on  "water"  would  go 
into  the  public  treasury. 

My  clients  came  to  me,  singly  and  in  pairs, 
to  grovel  and  to  implore.  An  interesting  study 
these  arrogant  gentlemen  made  as  they  cringed, 
utterly  indifferent  to  the  appearance  of  self-re 
spect,  in  their  agony  for  their  imperiled  millions. 


174  THE   PLUM   TREE 

A  mother  would  shrink  from  abasing  herself  to 
save  the  life  of  her  child  as  these  men  abased 
themselves  in  the  hope  of  saving  their  dollars. 
How  they  fawned  and  flattered!  They  begged 
my  pardon  for  having  disregarded  my  advice; 
they  assured  me  that,  if  I  would  only  exert  that 
same  genius  of  mine  which  had  conceived  the 
combine,  I  could  devise  some  way  of  saving  them 
from  this  tidal  wave  of  popular  clamor, — for 
they  hadn't  a  suspicion  of  my  part  in  making 
that  tidal  wave. 

Reluctantly  I  consented  to  "see  what  I  can 
do." 

The  instant  change  in  the  atmosphere  of  the 
capital,  the  instant  outcry  from  the  organs  of 
both  parties  that  "the  people  had  voted  for  re 
form,  not  for  confiscatory  revolution,"  completed 
my  demonstration.  My  clients  realized  who  was 
master  of  the  machines.  The  threatening  storm 
rapidly  scattered;  the  people,  relieved  that  the 
Silliman  program  of  upheaval  was  not  to  be  car 
ried  out,  were  glad  enough  to  see  the  old  "con 
servative"  order  restored, — our  people  always 
reason  that  it  is  better  to  rot  slowly  by  corrup- 


ROEBUCK  &  CO.  PASS  UNDER  THE  YOKE    175 

tion  than  to  be  frightened  to  death  by  revolu 
tion. 

"Hereafter,  we  must  trust  to  your  judgment 
in  these  political  matters,  Harvey,"  said  Roe 
buck.  "The  manager  must  be  permitted  to  man- 
age." 

I  smiled  at  the  ingenuousness  of  this  speech. 
It  did  not  ruffle  me.  Roebuck  was  one  of  those 
men  who  say  their  prayers  in  a  patronizing  tone. 

Yes,  I  was  master.  But  it  is  only  now,  in  the 
retrospect  of  years,  that  I  have  any  sense  of  tri 
umph;  for  I  had  won  the  supremacy  with  small 
effort,  comparatively, — with  the  small  effort  re 
quired  of  him  who  sees  the  conditions  of  a  situ 
ation  clearly,  and,  instead  of  trying  to  combat 
or  to  change  them,  intelligently  uses  them  to  his 
ends.  Nor  do  I  now  regard  my  achievement  as 
marvelous.  Everything  was  in  my  favor ;  against 
me,  there  was  nothing, — no  organization,  no 
plan,  no  knowledge  of  my  aim.  I  wonder  how 
much  of  their  supernal  glory  would  be  left  to  the 
world's  men  of  action,  from  its  Alexanders  and 
Napoleons  down  to  its  successful  bandits  and 
ward-bosses,  if  mankind  were  in  the  habit  of 


i;6  THE   PLUM   TREE 

looking  at  what  the  winner  had  opposed  to  him, 
— Alexander  faced  only  by  flocks  of  sheep-like 
Asiatic  slaves;  Napoleon  routing  the  badly 
trained,  wretchedly  officered  soldiers  of  decadent 
monarchies;  and  the  bandit  or  ward-boss  over 
coming  peaceful  and  unprepared  and  unorganized 
citizens.  Who  would  erect  statues  or  write  eu 
logies  to  a  man  for  mowing  a  field  of  corn-stalks 
with  a  scythe?  Mankind  is  never  more  amusing 
than  in  its  hero-worship. 

No,  I  should  simply  have  been  stupid  had  I 
failed. 

But — even  had  I  been  disposed  to  rein  in  and 
congratulate  myself  at  the  quarter-stretch,  I 
could  not  have  done  it.  A  man  has,  perhaps,  some 
choice  as  to  his  mount  before  he  enters  the  race 
for  success.  But  once  in  the  saddle  and  off,  he 
must  let  the  reins  go;  his  control  is  confined  to 
whip  and  spur. 


XIV 


A  "BOOM -FACTORY" 


In  the  early  autumn  of  that  last  year  of  his  as 
governor,  Burbank's  wife  died — a  grim  and  un 
expected  fulfilment  of  their  pretended  anxieties 
of  six  months  before. 

It  was,  in  some  respects,  as  great  a  loss  to  me 
as  to  him — how  great  to  us  both  I  did  not — in 
deed,  could  not — measure  until  several  years 
passed.  She  was  what  I  regard  as  a  typical  Amer 
ican  wife — devoted  to  her  husband,  jealously 
guarding  his  interests,  yet  as  keen  to  see  his  short 
comings  as  she  was  to  see  her  own.  And  how 
much  more  persistent  and  intelligent  in  correct 
ing  her  faults  than  he  in  correcting  his!  Like 
most  men,  he  was  vain — that  is,  while  he  would 
probably  have  admitted  in  a  large,  vague  way 
that  he  wasn't  perfect,  when  it  came  to  details  he 
would  defend  his  worst  fault  against  any  and  all 
criticism.  Like  most  women,  she,  too,  was  vain — 
but  an  intelligent  woman's  vanity,  instead  of  mak- 

177 


i;8  THE   PLUM   TREE 

ing  her  self-complacent,  somehow  spurs  her  on  to 
hide  her  weak  points  and  to  show  her  best  points 
in  the  best  light.  For  example,  Mrs.  Burbank,  a 
pretty  woman  and  proud  of  it,  was  yet  conscious 
of  her  deficiencies  in  dress  and  in  manners 
through  her  plain  and  rural  early  surroundings. 
It  was  interesting,  and  instructive,  too,  to  watch 
her  studying  and  cleverly  copying,  or  rather, 
adapting  Carlotta;  for  she  took  from  Carlotta 
only  that  which  could  be  fitted  without  visible 
joint  into  her  own  pattern. 

Latterly,  whenever  I  was  urging  upon  Burbank 
a  line  of  action  requiring  courage  or  a  sacrifice  of 
some  one  of  his  many  insidious  forms  of  personal 
vanity,  I  always  arranged  for  her  to  be  present 
at  our  conferences.  And  she  would  sit  there,  ap 
parently  absorbed  in  her  sewing ;  but  in  reality  she 
was  seeing  not  only  the  surface  reasons  I  gave 
him,  but  also  those  underlying  and  more  power 
ful  reasons  which  we  do  not  utter,  sometimes  be 
cause  we  like  to  play  the  hypocrite  to  ourselves, 
again  because  we  must  give  the  other  person  a 
chance  to  play  the  hypocrite  before  himself — and 
us.  And  often  I  left  him  reluctant  and  trying  to 


A  "BOOM-FACTORY"  179 

muster  courage  to  refuse  or  finesse  to  evade,  only 
to  find  him  the  next  day  consenting,  perhaps  en 
thusiastic.  Many's  the  time  she  spared  me  the 
disagreeable  necessity  of  being  peremptory — 
doubly  disagreeable  because  show  of  authority  has 
ever  been  distasteful  to  me  and  because  an  order 
can  never  be  so  heartily  executed  as  is  an  assimi 
lated  suggestion. 

When  I  went  to  him  a  month  after  her  death,  I 
expected  he  would  still  be  crushed  as  he  was  at  the 
funeral.  I  listened  with  a  feeling  of  revulsion  to 
his  stilted  and,  as  it  seemed  to  me,  perfunctory 
platitudes  on  his  "irreparable  loss" — stale  rhetoric 
about  her,  and  to  her  most  intimate  friend  and 
his!  I  had  thought  he  would  be  imagining  him 
self  done  with  ambition  for  ever;  I  had  feared  his 
strongly  religious  nature  would  lead  him  to  see  a 
"judgment"  upon  him  and  her  for  having  ex 
aggerated  her  indisposition  to  gain  a  political 
point.  And  I  had  mapped  out  what  I  would  say 
to  induce  him  to  go  on.  Instead,  after  a  few  of 
those  stereotyped  mortuary  sentences,  he  shifted 
to  politics  and  was  presently  showing  me  that  her 
death  had  hardly  interrupted  his  plannings  for 


i8o  THE   PLUM   TREE 

the  presidential  nomination.  As  for  the  "judg 
ment,"  I  had  forgotten  that  in  his  religion  his 
deity  was  always  on  his  side,  and  his  misfortunes 
were  always  of  the  evil  one.  These  deities  of  men 
of  action !  Man  with  his  god  a  ventriloquist  pup 
pet  in  his  pocket,  and  with  his  conscience  an  old 
dog  Tray  at  his  heels,  needing  no  leading  string ! 

However,  it  gave  me  a  shock,  this  vivid  re 
minder  from  Burbank  of  the  slavery  of  ambition 
— ambition,  the  vice  of  vices.  For  it  takes  its 
victims'  all — moral,  mental,  physical.  And,  while 
other  vices  rarely  wreck  any  but  small  men  or  in 
jure  more  than  what  is  within  their  small  circles 
of  influence,  ambition  seizes  only  the  superior  and 
sets  them  on  to  use  their  superior  powers  to  blast 
communities,  states,  nations,  continents.  Yet  it  is 
called  a  virtue.  And  men  who  have  sold  them 
selves  to  it  and  for  it  to  the  last  shred  of  man 
hood  are  esteemed  and,  mystery  of  mysteries,  es 
teem  themselves ! 

I  had  come  to  Burbank  to  manufacture  him 
into  a  President.  His  wife  and  I  had  together 
produced  an  excellent  raw  material.  Now,  to 
make  it  up  into  the  finished  product ! 


A  "BOOM-FACTORY"  181 

He  pointed  to  the  filing-cases  that  covered  the 
west  wall  of  his  library  from  floor  to  ceiling,  from 
north  window  to  south.  "I  base  my  hope  on  those 
— next  to  you,  of  course,"  said  he.  Then  with  his 
"woeful  widower"  pose,  he  added :  "They  were 
her  suggestions." 

I  looked  at  the  filing-cases  and  waited  for  him 
to  explain. 

"When  we  were  first  married,"  he  went  on  pres 
ently,  "she  said,  'It  seems  to  me,  if  I  were  a  pub 
lic  man,  I  should  keep  everything  relating  to  my 
self — every  speech,  all  that  the  newspapers  said, 
every  meeting  and  the  lists  of  the  important  peo 
ple  who  were  there,  notes  of  all  the  people  I  ever 
met  anywhere,  every  letter  or  telegram  or  note  I 
received.  If  you  do,  you  may  find  after  a  few 
years  that  you  have  an  enormous  list  of  acquaint 
ances.  You've  forgotten  them  because  you  meet 
so  many,  but  they  will  not  have  forgotten  you, 
who  were  one  of  the  principal  figures  at  the  meet 
ing  or  reception.'  That's  in  substance  what  she 
said.  And  so,  we  began  and  kept  it  up" — he 
paused  in  his  deliberate  manner,  compressed  his 
lips,  then  added— "together." 


182  THE   PLUM   TREE 

I  opened  one  of  the  filing-cases,  glanced  at  him 
for  permission,  took  out  a  slip  of  paper  under  the 
M's.  It  was  covered  with  notes,  in  Mrs.  Bur- 
bank's  writing,  of  a  reception  given  to  him  at  the 
Manufacturers'  Club  in  St.  Louis  three  years  be 
fore.  A  lot  of  names,  after  each  some  reminders 
of  the  standing  and  the  personal  appearance  of 
the  man.  Another  slip,  taken  at  random  from  the 
same  box,  contained  similar  notes  of  a  trip 
through  Montana  eight  years  before. 

"Wonderful !"  I  exclaimed,  as  the  full  value  of 
these  accumulations  loomed  in  my  mind.  "I  knew 
she  was  an  extraordinary  woman.  Now  I  see  that 
she  had  genius  for  politics." 

His  expression — a  peering  through  that  eternal 
pose  of  his — made  me  revise  my  first  judgment  of 
his  mourning.  For  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  real 
human  being,  one  who  had  loved  and  lost,  look 
ing  grief  and  pride  and  gratitude.  "If  she  had 
left  me  two  or  three  years  earlier/'  he  said  in  that 
solemn,  posing  tone,  "I  doubt  if  I  should  have  got 
one  step  further.  As  it  is,  I  may  be  able  to  go  on, 
though — I  have  lost — my  staff." 

What  fantastic  envelopes  does  man,  after  he 


A  "BOOM-FACTORY"  183 

has  been  finished  by  Nature,  wrap  about  himself 
in  his  efforts  to  improve  her  handiwork!  Physi 
cally,  even  when  most  dressed,  we  are  naked  in 
comparison  with  the  enswathings  that  hide  our 
real  mental  and  moral  selves  from  one  another — 
and  from  ourselves. 

My  campaign  was  based  on  the  contents  of 
those  filing-cases.  I  learned  all  the  places  through 
out  the  West — cities,  towns,  centrally-located 
villages — where  he  had  been  and  had  made  an 
impression ;  and  by  simple  and  obvious  means  we 
were  able  to  convert  them  into  centers  of  "the 
Burbank  boom."  I  could  afterward  trace  to  the 
use  we  made  of  those  memoranda  the  direct  get 
ting  of  no  less  than  one  hundred  and  seven  dele 
gates  to  the  national  convention — and  that  takes 
no  account  of  the  vaster  indirect  value  of  so  much 
easily  worked-up,  genuine,  unpurchased  and  un- 
purchasable  "Burbank  sentiment."  The  man  of 
only  local  prominence,  whom  Burbank  remem 
bered  perfectly  after  a  chance  meeting  years  be 
fore,  could  have  no  doubt  who  ought  to  be  the 
party's  nominee  for  President. 

The  national  machine  of  our  party  was  then 


184  THE   PLUM   TREE 

in  the  custody,  and  supposedly  in  the  control,  of 
Senator  Goodrich  of  New  Jersey.  He  had  a  repu 
tation  for  Machiavellian  dexterity,  but  I  found 
that  he  was  an  accident  rather  than  an  actuality. 

The  dominion  of  the  great  business  inter 
ests  over  politics  was  the  rapid  growth  of  about 
twenty  years — the  consolidations  of  business  nat 
urally  producing  concentrations  of  the  business 
world's  political  power  in  the  hands  of  the  few 
controllers  of  the  big  railway,  industrial  and  finan 
cial  combines.  Goodrich  had  happened  to  be  ac 
quainted  with  some  of  the  most  influential  of  these 
business  "kings" ;  they  naturally  made  him  their 
agent  for  the  conveying  of  their  wishes  and  their 
bribes  of  one  kind  and  another  to  the  national 
managers  of  both  parties.  They  knew  little  of  the 
details  of  practical  politics,  knew  only  what  they 
needed  in  their  businesses;  and  as  long  as  they 
got  that,  it  did  not  interest  them  what  was  done 
with  the  rest  of  the  power  their  "campaign  con 
tributions"  gave. 

With  such  resources  any  man  of  good  intelli 
gence  and  discretion  could  have  got  the  same  re 
sults  as  Goodrich's.  He  was  simply  a  lackey, 


A  "BOOM-FACTORY"  185 

strutting  and  cutting"  a  figure  in  his  master's 
clothes  and  under  his  master's  name.  He  was 
pitifully  vain  of  his  reputation  as  a  Machia- 
velli  and  a  go-between.  Vanity  is  sometimes  a 
source  of  great  strength ;  but  vanity  of  that  sort, 
and  about  a  position  in  which  secrecy  is  the  prime 
requisite,  could  mean  only  weakness. 

Throughout  his  eight  years  of  control  of  our 
party  it  had  had  possession  of  all  departments  of 
the  national  administration — except  of  the  House 
of  Representatives  during  the  past  two  years. 
This  meant  the  uninterrupted  and  unchecked 
reign  of  the  interests.  To  treat  with  considera 
tion  the  interests,  the  strong  men  of  the  country, 
they  who  must  have  a  free  hand  for  developing  its 
resources,  to  give  them  privileges  and  immunities 
beyond  what  can  be  permitted  the  ordinary  citi 
zen  or  corporation — that  is  a  course  which,  how 
ever  offensive  to  abstract  justice,  still  has,  as  it 
seems  to  me,  a  practical  justice  in  it,  and,  at  any 
rate,  must  be  pursued  so  long  as  the  masses  of  the 
voters  are  short-sighted,  unreasoning  and  in  nose 
rings  to  political  machines.  A  man's  rights,  what 
ever  they  may  be  in  theory,  are  in  practice  only 


186  THE   PLUM   TREE 

what  he  has  the  intelligence  and  the  power  to 
Compel.    But,  for  the  sake  of  the  nation,  for  the 

.upholding  of  civilization  itself,  these  over-power 
ful  interests  should  never  be  given  their  heads, 

,  should  be  restrained  as  closely  as  may  be  to  their 
rights — their  practical  rights.  Goodrich  had 
neither  the  sagacity  nor  the  patriotism — nor  the 
force  of  will,  for  that  matter — to  keep  them  with 
in  the  limits  of  decency  and  discretion.  Hence  the 
riot  of  plunder  and  privilege  which  revolted  and 
alarmed  me  when  I  came  to  Washington  and  saw 
politics  in  the  country-wide,  yes,  history-wide, 
horizon  of  that  view-point. 

Probably  I  should  have  been  more  leisurely  in 
bringing  my  presidential  plans  to  a  focus,  had  I  not 
seen  how  great  and  how  near  was  the  peril  to  my 
party.  It  seemed  to  me,  not  indeed  a  perfect  or 
even  a  satisfactory,  but  the  best  available,  instru 
ment  for  holding  the  balances  of  order  as  even  as 
might  be  between  our  country's  two  opposing  ele 
ments  of  disorder — the  greedy  plunderers  and  the 
rapidly  infuriating  plundered.  And  I  saw  that  no 
time  was  to  be  lost,  if  the  party  was  not  to  be 
blown  to  fragments.  The  first  mutterings  of  the 


A  "BOOM-FACTORY"  187 

storm  were  in  our  summary  ejection  from  control 
of  the  House  in  the  midway  election.  If  the  party 
were  not  to  be  dismembered,  I  must  oust  Good 
rich,  must  defeat  his  plans  for  nominating  Crom 
well,  must  nominate  Burbank  instead.  If  I  should 
succeed  in  electing  him,  I  reasoned  that  I  could 
through  him  carry  out  my  policy  of  moderation 
and  practical  patriotism — to  yield  to  the  powerful 
few  a  minimum  of  what  they  could  compel,  to 
give  to  the  prostrate  but  potentially  powerful 
many  at  least  enough  to  keep  them  quiet — a  stom- 
achful.  The  world  may  have  advanced;  but 
patriotism  still  remains  the  art  of  restraining  the 
arrogance  of  full  stomachs  and  the  anger  of 
empty  ones. 

In  Cromwell,  Goodrich  believed  he  had  a  candi 
date  with  sufficient  hold  upon  the  rank  and  file 
of  the  party  to  enable  him  to  carry  the  election  by 
the  usual  means — a  big  campaign  fund  properly 
distributed  in  the  doubtful  states.  I  said  to  Sen 
ator  Scarborough  of  Indiana  soon  after  Crom 
well's  candidacy  was  announced :  "What  do  you 
think  of  Goodrich's  man?" 

Scarborough,  though  new  to  the  Senate  then, 


188  THE   PLUM   TREE 

had  shown  himself  far  and  away  the  ablest  of  the 
opposition  Senators.  He  had  as  much  intellect  as 
any  of  them;  and  he  had  what  theorists,  such  as 
he,  usually  lack,  skill  at  "grand  tactics" — the 
management  of  men  in  the  mass.  His  one  weak 
ness — and  that,  from  my  standpoint,  a  great  one 
— was  a  literal  belief  in  democratic  institutions 
and  in  the  inspiring  but  in  practice  pernicious 
principle  of  exact  equality  before  the  law. 

"Cromwell's  political  sponsors,"  was  his  reply, 
"are  two  as  shrewd  bankers  as  there  are  in  New 
York.  I  have  heard  it  said  that  a  fitting  sign  for  a 
bank  would  be :  'Here  we  do  nothing  for  nothing 
for  nobody.' ' 

An  admirable  summing  up  of  Cromwell's  can 
didacy.  And  I  knew  that  it  would  so  appear  to  the 
country,  that  no  matter  how  great  a  corruption 
fund  Goodrich  might  throw  into  the  campaign, 
we  should,  in  that  time  of  public  exasperation,  be 
routed  if  Cromwell  was  our  standard-bearer — so 
utterly  routed  that  we  could  not  possibly  get  our 
selves  together  again  for  eight,  perhaps  twelve 
years.  There  might  even  be  a  re-alignment  of 
parties  with  some  sort  of  socialism  in  control  of 


A  "BOOM-FACTORY"  189 


one  of  them.  If  control  \yejg..tn  ^p  reiaJnfLcLK}7  the 
few  who  have  the  capital  and  the  intellect  to  make 
efficient  the  nation's  resqu£c^,^nxL,.energy,  my 
projects  must  be  put  through  at.  once. 

I  had  accumulated  a  fund  of  five  hundred 
thousand  dollars  for  my  "presidential  flotation" 
—-half  of  it  contributed  by  Roebuck  in  exchange 
for  a  promise  that  his  son-in-law  should  have  an 
ambassadorship  if  Burbank  were  elected;  the 
other  half  set  aside  by  me  from  the  "reserve"  I 
had  formed  out  of  the  year-by-year  contributions 
of  my  combine.  By  the  judicious  investment  of 
that  capital  I  purposed  to  get  Burbank  the  nomi 
nation  on  the  first  ballot  —  at  least  four  hundred 
and  sixty  of  the  nine  hundred-odd  delegates. 

In  a  national  convention  the  delegates  are, 
roughly  speaking,  about  evenly  divided  among 
the  three  sections  of  the  country  —  a  third  from 
east  of  the  Alleghanies  ;  a  third  from  the  West  ;  a 
third  from  the  South.  It  was  hopeless  for  us  to 
gun  for  delegates  in  the  East;  that  was  the  es 
pecial  bailiwick  of  Senator  Goodrich.  The  most 
we  could  do  there  would  be  to  keep  him  occupied 
by  quietly  encouraging  any  anti-Cromwell  senti- 


ipo  THE   PLUM   TREE 

ment — and  it  existed  a-plenty.  Our  real  efforts 
were  to  be  in  the  West  and  South. 

I  organized  under  Woodruff  a  corps  of  about 
thirty  traveling  agents.  Each  man  knew  only  his 
own  duties,  knew  nothing  of  the  general  plan, 
not  even  that  there  was  a  general  plan.  Each  was 
a  trained  political  worker,  a  personal  retainer  of 
ours.  I  gave  them  their  instructions;  Woodruff 
equipped  them  with  the  necessary  cash.  During 
the  next  five  months  they  were  incessantly  on  the 
go — dealing  with  our  party's  western  machines 
where  they  could;  setting  up  rival  machines  in 
promising  localities  where  Goodrich  controlled  the 
regular  machines;  using  money  here,  diplomacy 
there,  both  yonder,  promises  of  patronage  every 
where. 

Such  was  my  department  of  secrecy.  At  the 
head  of  my  department  of  publicity  I  put  De  Milt, 
(a  sort  of  cousin  of  Burbank's  and  a  newspaper 
man.  He  attended  to  the  subsidizing  of  news 
agencies  that  supplied  thousands  of  country  pa 
pers  with  boiler-plate  matter  to  fill  their  inside 
pages.  He  also  subsidized  and  otherwise  won 
over  many  small  town  organs  of  the  party.  Fur- 


A  "BOOM-FACTORY"  191 

ther,  he  and  three  assistants  wrote  each  week 
many  columns  of  "boom"  matter,  all  of  which 
was  carefully  revised  by  Burbank  himself  before 
it  went  out  as  "syndicate  letters."  If  Goodrich 
hadn't  been  ignorant  of  conditions  west  of  the 
Alleghanies  and  confident  that  his  will  was  law, 
he  would  have  scented  out  this  department  of  pub 
licity  of  mine  and  so  would  have  seen  into  my 
"flotation."  But  he  knew  nothing  beyond  his 
routine.  I  once  asked  him  how  many  country 
newspapers  there  were  in  the  United  States,  and 
he  said:  "Oh,  I  don't  know.  Perhaps  three  or 
four  thousand."  Even  had  I  enlightened  him  to 
the  extent  of  telling  him  that  there  were  about 
five  times  that  number,  he  would  have  profited 
nothing.  Had  he  been  able  to  see  the  importance 
of  such  a  fact  to  capable  political  management,  he 
would  have  learned  it  long  before  through  years 
of  constant  use  of  the  easiest  avenue  into  the 
heart  of  the  people. 

He  did  not  wake  up  to  adequate  action  until  the 
fourth  of  that  group  of  states  whose  delegations 
to  our  national  conventions  were  habitually 
bought  and  sold,  broke  its  agreement  with  him 


192  THE   PLUM   TREE 

and  instructed  its  delegation  to  vote  for  Burbank. 
By  the  time  he  had  a  corps  of  agents  in  those 
states,  Doc  Woodruff  had  "acquired"  more  than 
a  hundred  delegates.  Goodrich  was  working  only 
through  the  regular  machinery  of  the  party  and 
was  fighting  against  a  widespread  feeling  that 
Cromwell  shouldn't,  and  probably  couldn't,  be 
elected ;  we,  on  the  other  hand,  were  manufactur 
ing  presidential  sentiment  for  a  candidate  who 
was  already  popular.  Nor  had  Goodrich  much 
advantage  over  us  with  the  regular  machines  any 
where  except  in  the  East. 

Just  as  I  was  congratulating  myself  that  noth 
ing  could  happen  to  prevent  our  triumph  at  the 
convention,  Roebuck  telegraphed  me  to  come  to 
Chicago.  I  found  with  him  in  the  sitting-room  of 
his  suite  in  the  Auditorium  Annex,  Partridge  and 
Granby,  next  to  him  the  most  important  mem 
bers  of  my  combine,  since  they  were  the  only  ones 
who  had  interests  that  extended  into  many  states. 
It  was  after  an  uneasy  silence  that  Granby,  the 
uncouth  one  of  the  three,  said : 

"Senator,  we  brought  you  here  to  tell  you  this 
Burbank  nonsense  has  gone  far  enough." 


XV 

MUTINY 

It  was  all  I  could  do  not  to  show  my  astonish 
ment  and  sudden  fury.  "I  don't  understand,"  said 
I,  in  a  tone  which  I  somehow  managed  to  keep 
down  to  tranquil  inquiry. 

But  I  did  understand.   It  instantly  came  to  me 
that  the  three  had  been  brought  into  line  for 
/  Cromwell  by  their  powerful  business  associates 
1  in  Wall  Street,  probably  by  the  great  bankers 
\who  loaned  them  money.   Swift  upon  the  surge  of 
tanger  I  had  suppressedr-before  it  flamed  at  the  sur 
face  came  a  surge  of  triumph — which  I  also  sup 
pressed.   I  had  often  wished,  perhaps  as  a  matter 
of  personal  pride,  just  this  opportunity ;  and  here 
it  was ! 

"Cromwell  must  be  nominated,"  said  Granby  in 
his  insolent  tone.  He  had  but  two  tones — the  in 
solent  and  the  cringing.    "He's  safe  and  sound. 
Burbank  isn't  trusted  in  the  East.  And  we  didn't 
i93 


194  THE   PLUM  TREE 

like  his  conduct  last  year.  He  caters  to  the  dema 
gogues." 

Roebuck,  through  his  liking  for  me,  I  imagine, 
rather  than  through  refined  instinct,  now  began  to 
speak,  thinly  disguising  his  orders  as  requests.  I 
waited  until  he  had  talked  himself  out.  I  waited 
with  the  same  air  of  calm  attention  until  Part 
ridge  had  given  me  his  jerky  variation.  I  waited, 
still  apparently  calm,  until  the  silence  must  have 
been  extremely  uncomfortable  to  them.  I  waited 
until  Granby  said  sharply,  "Then  it  is  settled?" 

"Yes,"  said  I,  keeping  all  emotion  out  of  my 
face  and  voice.  "It  is  settled.  Ex-Governor  Bur- 
bank  is  to  be  nominated.  I  am  at  a  loss  to  account 
for  this  outbreak.  However,  I  shall  at  once  take 
measures  to  prevent  its  occurring  again.  Good 
day." 

And  I  was  gone — straight  to  the  train.  I  did 
not  pause  at  Fredonia  but  went  on  to  the  capital. 
The  next  morning  I  had  the  legislature  and  the 
attorney-general  at  work  demolishing  Granby's 
business  in  my  state — for  I  had  selected  him  to 
make  an  example  of,  incidentally  because  he  had 
insulted  me,  but  chiefly  because  he  was  the  most 


MUTINY  195 

notorious  of  my  ten,  was  about  the  greediest  and 
cruelest  "robber  baron"  in  the  West.  My  legisla 
ture  was  to  revoke  his  charter ;  my  attorney-gen 
eral  was  to  enforce  upon  him  the  laws  I  had  put 
on  the  statute  books  against  just  such  emergen 
cies.  And  it  had  never  entered  their  swollen  heads 
that  I  might  have  taken  these  precautions  that 
are  in  the  primer  of  political  management. 

My  three  mutineers  pursued  me  to  the  capital, 
missed  me,  were  standing  breathless  at  the  door 
of  my  house  near  Fredonia  on  the  morning  of  the 
third  day.  I  refused  to  be  seen  until  the  afternoon 
of  the  fourth  day,  and  then  I  forbade  Granby. 
But  when  I  descended  to  the  reception-room  he 
rushed  at  me,  tried  to  take  my  hand,  pouring  out 
a  stream  of  sickening  apologies.  I  rang  the  bell. 
When  a  servant  appeared,  I  said,  "Show  this  man 
the  door." 

Granby  turned  white  and,  after  a  long  look  into 
my  face,  said  in  a  broken  voice  to  Roebuck :  "For 
..God's  sake,  don't  go  back  on  me,  Mr.  Roebuck. 
Do  what  you  can  for  me." 

As  the  curtain  dropped  behind  him,  I  looked 
expectantly  at  Roebuck,  sweating  with  fright  for 


196  THE   PLUM   TREE 

his  imperiled  millions.  Probably  his  mental  state 
can  be  fully  appreciated  only  by  a  man  who  has 
also  felt  the  dread  of  losing  the  wealth  upon  which 
he  is  wholly  dependent  for  courage,  respect  and 
self-respect. 

"Don't  misunderstand  me,  Harvey,"  he  began 
to  plead,  forgetting  that  there  was  anybody  else  to 
save  besides  himself.  "I  didn't  mean — " 

"What  did  you  mean?"  I  interrupted,  my  tone 
ominously  quiet. 

"We  didn't  intend—"  began  Partridge. 

"What  did  you  intend  ?"  I  interrupted  as  quiet 
ly  as  before. 

They  looked  nervously  each  at  the  other,  then 
at  me.  "If  you  think  Burbank's  the  man,"  Roe 
buck  began  again,  "why,  you  may  go  ahead — " 

There  burst  in  me  such  a  storm  of  anger  that 
I  dared  not  speak  until  I  could  control  and  aim 
the  explosion.  Partridge  saw  how,  and  how  seri 
ously,  Roebuck  had  blundered.  He  thrust  him 
aside  and  faced  me.  "What's  the  use  of  beating 
around  the  bush  ?"  he  said  bluntly.  "We've  made 
damn  fools  of  ourselves,  Senator.  We  thought 
we  had  the  whip.  We  see  that  we  haven't.  We're 


MUTINY  197 

mighty  sorry  we  didn't  do  a  little  thinking  before 
Roebuck  sent  that  telegram.  We  hope  you'll  let 
us  off  as  easy  as  you  can,  and  we  promise  not  to 
meddle  in  your  business  again — and  you  can  bet 
your  life  we'll  keep  our  promise." 

"I  think  you  will,"  said  I. 

"I  am  a  man  of  my  word/'  said  he.  "And  so  is 
Roebuck." 

,  "Oh,  I  don't  mean  that,"  was  my  answer.    "I 
mean,  when  the  Granby  object-lesson  in  the  stu- 
/  pidity  of  premature  ingratitude  is  complete,  you 
Vshan't  be  able  to  forget  it." 

They  drifted  gloomily  in  the  current  of  their 
unpleasant  thoughts;  then  each  took  a  turn  at 
wringing  my  hand.  I  invited  them  up  to  my  sit 
ting-room  where  we  smoked  and  talked  amicably 
for  a  couple  of  hours.  It  would  have  amused  the 
thousands  of  employes  and  dependents  over 
whom  these  two  lorded  it  arrogantly  to  have 
heard  with  what  care  they  weighed  their  timid 
words,  how  nervous  they  were  lest  they  should 
give  me  fresh  provocation.  As  they  were  leaving, 
Roebuck  said  earnestly:  "Isn't  there  anything  I 
can  do  for  you,  Harvey  ?" 


ip8  THE   PLUM   TREE 

"Why,  yes,"  said  I.  "Give  out  a  statement  next 
Sunday  in  Chicago — for  the  Monday  morning 
papers — indorsing  Cromwell's  candidacy.  Say 
you  and  all  your  associates  are  enthusiastic  for  it 
because  his  election  would  give  the  large  enter 
prises  that  have  been  the  object  of  demagogic  at 
tack  a  sense  of  security  for  at  least  four  years 


more." 


He  thought  I  was  joking  him,  being  unable  to 
believe  me  so  lacking  in  judgment  as  to  fail  to 
realize  what  a  profound  impression  in  Cromwell's 
favor  such  a  statement  from  the  great  Roebuck 
would  produce.  I  wrote  and  mailed  him  an  inter 
view  with  himself  the  following  day;  he  gave  it 
out  as  I  had  requested.  It  got  me  Burbank  dele 
gations  in  Illinois,  South  Dakota  and  Oregon  the 
same  week. 


XVI 

rA  VICTORY  FOR  THE  PEOPLE 

I  arrived  at  Chicago  the  day  before  the  con 
vention  and,  going  at  once  to  our  state  headquar 
ters  in  the  Great  Northern,  shut  myself  in  with 
Doc  Woodruff.  My  door-keeper,  the  member  of 
the  legislature  from  Fredonia,  ventured  to  inter 
rupt  with  the  announcement  that  a  messenger  had 
come  from  Senator  Goodrich. 

"Let  him  in,"  said  I. 

As  the  door-man  disappeared  Doc  Woodruff 
glanced  at  his  watch,  then  said  with  a  smile: 
"You've  been  here  seven  minutes  and  a  half — just 
time  for  a  lookout  down  stairs  to  telephone  to 
the  Auditorium  and  for  the  messenger  to  drive 
from  there  here.  Goodrich  is  on  the  anxious-seat, 
all  right." 

The    messenger    was    Goodrich's   handy-man, 

Judge  Dufour.  I  myself  have  always  frowned  on 

these  public  exhibitions  of  the  intimacy  of  judges 

in  practical  politics ;  but  Goodrich  had  many  small 

199 


200  THE   PLUM   TREE 

vanities — he  liked  his  judges  to  hold  his  coat  and 
his  governors  to  carry  his  satchel.  One  would  say 
that  such  petty  weaknesses  would  be  the  undoing 
of  a  man.  Fortunately,  we  are  not  as  weak  as  our 
weakness  but  as  strong  as  our  strength ;  and  while 
the  universal  weaknesses  are  shared  by  the  strong, 
their  strength  is  peculiar  and  rare.  After  Dufour 
had  introduced  himself  and  we  had  exchanged 
commonplaces  he  said:  "Senator,  there's  a  little 
conference  of  some  of  the  leaders  at  headquarters 
and  it  isn't  complete  without  you.  So,  Senator 
Goodrich  has  sent  me  over  to  escort  you." 

"Thank  you — very  courteous  of  you  and  of 
him,"  said  I  without  hesitation,  for  I  knew  what 
was  coming  as  soon  as  his  name  had  been  brought 
in,  and  my  course  was  laid  out.  "But  I  can't  leave 
just  now.  Please  ask  him  if  he  won't  come  over 
— any  time  within  the  next  four  hours."  This 
blandly  and  without  a  sign  that  I  was  conscious 
of  Dufour's  stupefaction — for  his  vanity  made 
him  believe  that  the  god  the  great  Dufour  knelt 
to  must  be  the  god  of  gods. 
/'There  is  no  more  important  branch  of  the  art  of 

(successful  dealing  with  men  than  the  etiquette  of 
\ 


A  VICTORY   FOR   THE   PEOPLE  201 

who  shall  call  upon  whom.  Many  a  man  has  in 
his  very  hour  of  triumph  ruined  his  cause  with  a 
blunder  there — by  going  to  see  some  one  whom 
he  should  have  compelled  to  come  to  him,  or  by 
compelling  some  one  to  come  to  him  when  he 
should  have  made  the  concession  of  going.  I  had 
two  reasons  for  thus  humiliating  Goodrich, 
neither  of  them  the  reason  he  doubtless  attributed 
to  me,  the  desire  to  feed  my  vanity.  My  first  rea 
son  was  his  temperament;  I  knew  his  having  to 
come  to  me  would  make  him  bow  before  me  in 
spirit,  as  he  was  a  tyrant,  and  tyrants  are  always 
cringers.  My  second  reason  was  that  I  thought 
myself  near  enough  to  control  of  the  convention 
to  be  able  to  win  control  by  creating  the  atmos 
phere  of  impending  success.  There  is  always  a  lot 
of  fellows  who  wait  to  see  who  is  likely  to  win,  so 
that  they  may  be  on  the  side  of  the  man  in  the 
plum  tree;  often  there  are  enough  of  these  to 
gain  the  victory  for  him  who  can  lure  them  over 
at  just  the  right  moment. 

As  soon  as  Dufour  had  taken  his  huge  body- 
away  I  said  to  Woodruff :  "Go  out  with  your  men 
and  gather  in  the  office  down  stairs  as  many  mem- 


202  THE   PLUM   TREE 

bers  of  the  doubtful  delegations  as  you  can.  Keep 
them  where  they'll  be  bound  to  see  Goodrich  come 
in  and  go  out." 

He  rushed  away,  and  I  waited — working  with 
the  leaders  of  three  far-western  states.  At  the 
end  of  two  hours,  I  won  them  by  the  spectacle  of 
the  arriving  Goodrich.  He  came  in,  serene,  smil 
ing,  giving  me  the  joyously  shining  eyes  and  joy 
ously  firm  hand-clasp  of  the  politician's  greeting ; 
not  an  outward  sign  that  he  would  like  to  see  me 
tortured  to  death  by  some  slow  process  then  and 
there.  Hypocritical  preliminaries  were  not  merely 
unnecessary  but  even  highly  ridiculous;  yet,  so 
great  was  his  anger  and  confusion  that  he  began 
with  the  "prospects  for  an  old-time  convention, 
with  old-time  enthusiasm  and  that  generous  ri 
valry  which  is  the  best  sign  of  party  health." 

"I  hope  not,  Senator,"  said  I  pleasantly.  "Here, 
we  think  the  fight  is  over — and  won." 

He  lifted  his  eyebrows ;  but  I  saw  his  maxillary 
muscles  twitching.  "We  don't  figure  it  out  just 
that  way  at  headquarters,"  he  replied  oilily.  "But, 
there's  no  doubt  about  it,  your  man  has  developed 
strength  in  the  West." 


A   VICTORY   FOR   THE   PEOPLE  203 

"And  South/'  said  I,  with  deliberate  intent  to 
inflame,  for  I  knew  how  he  must  feel  about  those 
delegates  we  had  bought  away  from  him. 

There  were  teeth  enough  in  his  smile — but  lit 
tle  else.  "I  think  Burbank  and  Cromwell  will  be 
about  even  on  the  first  ballot,"  said  he.  "May  the 
best  man  win !  We're  all  working  for  the  good  of 
the  party  and  the  country.  But — I  came,  rather, 
to  get  your  ideas  about  platform." 

I  opened  a  drawer  in  the  table  at  which  I  was 
sitting  and  took  out  a  paper.  "We've  embodied 
our  ideas  in  this,"  said  I,  holding  the  paper  to 
ward  him.  "There's  a  complete  platform,  but  we 
only  insist  on  the  five  paragraphs  immediately 
after  the  preamble." 

He  seemed  to  age  as  he  read.  "Impossible !"  he 
finally  exclaimed.  "Preposterous!  It  would  be 
difficult  enough  to  get  any  money  for  Cromwell 
on  such  a  platform,  well  as  our  conservative  men 
know  they  can  trust  him.  But  for  Burbank — you 
couldn't  get  a  cent — not  a  damn  cent !  A  rickety 
candidate  on  a  rickety  platform — that's  what 
they'd  say." 

I  made  no  answer. 


204  THE   PLUM   TREE 

"May  I  ask,"  he  presently  went  on,  "has  ex- 
Governor  Burbank  seen  this — this  astonishing 
document?" 

Burbank  had  written  it.  I  confess  when  he  first 
showed  it  to  me,  it  had  affected  me  somewhat  as 
it  was  now  affecting"  Goodrich.  For,  a  dealer 
with  business  men  as  well  as  with  public  senti 
ment,  I  appreciated  instantly  the  shock  some  of 
the  phrases  would  give  the  large  interests.  But 
Burbank  had  not  talked  to  me  five  minutes  before 
I  saw  he  was  in  the  main  right  and  that  his 
phrases  only  needed  a  little  "toning  down"  so 
that  they  wouldn't  rasp  too  harshly  on  "conserva 
tive"  ears.  "Yes,  Mr.  Burbank  has  seen  it,"  said 
I.  "He  approves  it — though,  of  course,  it  does  not 
represent  his  personal  views,  or  his  intentions" 

"If  Mr.  Burbank  approves  this'9  exclaimed 
Goodrich,  red  and  tossing  the  paper  on  the  table, 
"then  my  gravest  doubts  about  him  are  confirmed. 
He  is  an  utterly  unsafe  man.  He  could  not  carry 
a  single  state  in  the  East  where  there  are  any 
large  centerings  of  capital  or  of  enterprise — not 
even  our  yellow-dog  states." 

"He  can  and  will  carry  them  all,"  said  I.  "They 


A   VICTORY   FOR   THE   PEOPLE  205 

must  go  for  him,  because  after  the  opposition  have 
nominated,  and  have  announced  their  platform, 
your  people  will  regard  him  as,  at  any  rate,  much 
the  less  of  two  evils.  We  have  decided  on  that  plat 
form  because  we  wish  to  make  it  possible  for  him 
to  carry  the  necessary  Western  states.  We  can't 
hold  our  rank  and  file  out  here  unless  we  have  a 
popular  platform.  The  people  must  have  their 
way  before  election,  Senator,  if  the  interests  are 
to  continue  to  have  their  way  after  election." 

"I'll  never  consent  to  that  platform,"  said  he, 
rising. 

"Very  well,"  said  I  with  a  mild  show  of  regret, 
rising  also  as  if  I  had  no  wish  to  prolong  the  in 
terview. 

He  brought  his  hand  down  violently  upon  the 
paper.  "This,"  he  exclaimed,  "is  a  timely  uncov 
ering  of  a  most  amazing  plot — a  plot  to  turn  our 
party  over  to  demagoguery." 

-"To  rescue  it  from  the  combination  of  dema 
goguery  and  plutagoguery  that  is  wrecking  it," 
^aid  I  without  heat,  "and  make  it  again  an  instru 
ment  of  at  least  sanity,  perhaps  of  patriotism." 

"We  control  the  platform  committee,"  he  went 


206  THE   PLUM   TREE 

'on,  "and  I  can  tell  you  now,  Senator  Sayler,  that 
that  there  platform,  nor  nothing  like  it,  will  never 
be  reported."  In  his  agitation  he  went  back  to 
the  grammar  of  his  youthful  surroundings. 

"I  regret  that  you  will  force  us  to  a  fight  on  the 
floor  of  the  convention,"  I  returned.  "It  can't 
but  make  a  bad  impression  on  the  country  to  see 
two  factions  in  the  party — one  for  the  people,  the 
other  against  them." 

Goodrich  sat  down. 

"But,"  I  went  on,  "at  least,  such  a  fight  will  in 
sure  Burbank  all  the  delegates  except  perhaps  the 
two  or  three  hundred  you  directly  control.  You 
are  courageous,  Senator,  to  insist  upon  a  count  of 
noses  on  the  issues  we  raise  there." 

He  took  up  the  platform  again,  and  began  to 
pick  it  to  pieces  phrase  by  phrase.  That  was  what 
I  wanted.  Some  phrases  I  defended,  some  I  con 
ceded  might  be  altered  to  advantage,  others  I 
cheerfully  agreed  to  discard  altogether.  Presently 
he  had  a  pencil  in  his  hand  and  was  going  over  the 
crucial  paragraphs,  was  making  interlineations. 
And  he  grew  more  and  more  reasonable.  At  last 
I  suggested  that  he  take  the  platform  away  with 


A   VICTORY   FOR   THE   PEOPLE  207 

him,  make  the  changes  agreed  upon  and  such 
others  as  he  might  think  wise,  and  send  it  back 
for  my  criticism  and  suggestions.  He  assented, 
and  we  parted  on  excellent  terms — "harmony"  in 
the  convention  was  assured. 

When  the  amended  platform  came  back  late  in 
the  afternoon,  I  detained  Goodrich's  messenger, 
the  faithful  Dufour  again.  It  was  still  the  Bur- 
bank  platform,  with  no  changes  we  could  not  con 
cede.  I  had  a  cop}r  made  and  gave  it  to  Dufour, 
saying :  "Tell  the  Senator  I  think  this  admirable, 
a  great  improvement.  But  I'll  try  to  see  him  to 
night  and  thank  him." 

I  did  not  try  to  see  him,  however.  I  took  no 
risk  of  lessening  the  effect  created  by  his  having 
to  come  to  me.  He  had  entered  through  groups 
of  delegates  from  all  parts  of  the  country.  He  had 
passed  out  through  a  crowd,  so  well  did  my  men 
employ  the  time  his  long  stay  with  me  gave  them. 

On  the  next  day  the  platform  was  adopted. 
On  the  following  day,  amid  delirious  enthusiasm 
in  the  packed  galleries  and  not  a  little  agitation 
among  the  delegates — who,  even  to  the  "know 
ing  ones,"  were  as  ignorant  of  what  was  really 


208  THE   PLUM   TREE 

going  on  as  private  soldiers  are  of  the  general's 
plan  of  battle — amid  waving  of  banners  and 
:rash  of  band  and  shriek  of  crowd  Burbank  was 
nominated  on  the  first  ballot.  Our  press  hailed  the 
nomination  as  a  "splendid  victory  of  the  honest 
common  sense  of  the  entire  party  over  the  ultra 
conservatism  of  a  faction  associated  in  the  popu- 
\  lar  mind  with  segregated  wealth  and  undue  en 
joyment  of  the  favors  of  laws  and  law-makers." 

When  I  saw  Burbank  he  took  me  graciously  by 
the  hand.  "I  thank  you,  Harvey/'  he  said,  "for 
your  aid  in  this  glorious  victory  of  the  people/' 

I  did  not  realize  then  that  his  vanity  was  of  the 
kind  which  can  in  an  instant  spring  into  a  Red 
wood  colossus  from  the  shriveled  stalk  to  which 
the  last  glare  of  truth  has  wilted  it.  Still  his 
words  and  manner  jarred  on  me.  As  our  eyes 
met,  something  in  mine — perhaps  something  he 
imagined  he  saw — made  him  frown  in  the  majesty 
of  offended  pose.  Then  his  timidity  took  fright 
and  he  said  apologetically,  "How  can  I  repay  you  ? 
After  all,  it  is  your  victory." 

I  protested. 

"Then  ours"  said  he.   "Yours,  for  us." 


XVII 

SCARBOROUGH 

Now  came  the  problem — to  elect. 

We  hear  much  of  many  wonders  of  combina 
tion  and  concentration  of  industrial  power  which 
railway  and  telegraph  have  wrought.  But  nothing 
is  said  about  what  seems  to  me  the  greatest  won 
der  of  them  all — how  these  forces  have  resulted 
in  the  concentration  of  the  political  power  of  up 
wards  of  twelve  millions  of  our  fifteen  million 
voters;  how  the  few  can  impose  their  ideas  and 
their  will  upon  widening  circles,  out  and  out,  un 
til  all  are  included.  The  people  are  scattered ;  the 
powers  confer,  man  to  man,  day  by  day.  The 
people  are  divided  by  partizan  and  other  preju 
dices  ;  the  powers  are  bound  together  by  the  one 
self-interest.  The  people  must  accept  such  politi 
cal  organizations  as  are  provided  for  them;  the 
powers  pay  for,  and  their  agents  make  and  direct, 
those  organizations.  The  people  are  poor;  the 
powers  are  rich.  The  people  have  not  even  offices 
209 


210  THE   PLUM   TREE 

to  bestow;  the  powers  have  offices  to  give  and 
lucrative  employment  of  all  kinds,  and  material 
and  social  advancement, — everything  that  the 
vanity  or  the  appetite  of  man  craves.  The  people 
punish  but  feebly — usually  the  wrong  persons — 
and  soon  forget;  the  powers  relentlessly  and 
surely  pursue  those  who  oppose  them,  forgive 
only  after  the  offender  has  surrendered  uncondi 
tionally,  and  they  never  forget  where  it  is  to  their 
interest  to  remember.  The  powers  know  both 
what  they  want  and  how  to  get  it;  the  people 
know  neither. 

Back  in  March,  when  Goodrich  first  suspected 
that  I  had  outgeneraled  him,  he  opened  negotia 
tions  with  the  national  machine  of  the  opposition 
party.  He  decided  that,  if  I  should  succeed  in 
nominating  Burbank,  he  would  save  his  masters 
and  himself  by  nominating  as  the  opposition  can 
didate  a  man  under  their  and  his  control,  and  by 
electing  him  with  an  enormous  campaign  fund. 

Beckett,  the  subtlest  and  most  influential  of  the 
managers  of  the  national  machine  of  the  opposi 
tion  party,  submitted  several  names  to  him.  He 
selected  Henry  J.  Simpson,  Justice  of  the  Supreme 


SCARBOROUGH  211 

Court  of  Ohio — a  slow,  shy,  ultra-conservative 
man,  his  brain  spun  full  in  every  cell  with  the 
cobwebs  of  legal  technicality.  He  was,  in  his  way, 
almost  as  satisfactory  a  candidate  for  the  inter 
ests  as  Cromwell  would  have  been.  For,  while  he 
was  honest,  of  what  value  is  honesty  when  com 
bined  with  credulity  and  lack  of  knowledge  of 
affairs?  They  knew  what  advisers  he  would  se 
lect,  men  trained  in  their  service  and  taken  from 
their  legal  staffs.  They  knew  he  would  shrink 
from  anything  "radical"  or  "disturbing" — that  is, 
would  not  molest  the  two  packs  of  wolves,  the 
business  and  the  political,  at  their  feast  upon  the 
public.  He  came  of  a  line  of  bigoted  adherents  of 
his  party;  he  led  a  simple,  retired  life  among  sheep 
and  cows  and  books  asleep  in  the  skins  of  sheep 
and  cows.  He  wore  old-fashioned  rural  whiskers, 
thickest  in  the  throat,  thinning  toward  the  jaw 
bone,  scant  about  the  lower  lip,  absent  from  the 
upper.  These  evidences  of  unfitness  to  cope  with 
up-to-date  corruption  seemed  to  endear  him  to  the 
masses. 

As  soon  as  those  big  organs  of  the  opposition 
that  were  in  the  control  of  the  powers  began  to 


212  THE   PLUM   TREE 

talk  of  Simpson  as  an  ideal  candidate,  I  suspected 
what  was  in  the  wind.  But  I  had  my  hands  full ; 
the  most  I  could  then  do  was  to  supply  my  local 
"left-bower,"  Silliman,  with  funds  and  set  him  to 
work  for  a  candidate  for  his  party  more  to  my 
taste.  It  was  fortunate  for  me  that  I  had  cured 
myself  of  the  habit  of  worrying.  For  it  was  plain 
that,  if  Goodrich  and  Beckett  succeeded  in  get 
ting  Simpson  nominated  by  the  opposition,  I 
should  have  a  hard  fight  to  raise  the  necessary 
campaign  money.  The  large  interests  either 
would  finance  Simpson  or,  should  I  convince 
them  that  Burbank  was  as  good  for  their  pur 
poses  as  Simpson,  would  be  indifferent  which 
won. 

I  directed  Silliman  to  work  for  Rundle  of  Ind 
iana,  a  thoroughly  honest  man,  in  deadly  earnest 
about  half  a  dozen  deadly  wrong  things,  and  cap 
able  of  anything  in  furthering  them — after  the 
manner  of  fanatics.  If  he  had  not  been  in  public 
life,  he  would  have  been  a  camp-meeting  exhorter. 
Crowds  liked  to  listen  to  him;  the  radicals  and 
radically  inclined  throughout  the  West  swore  by 
him ;  he  had  had  two  terms  in  Congress,  had  got  a 


SCARBOROUGH  213 

hundred-odd  votes  for  the  nomination  for  Presi 
dent  at  the  last  national  convention  of  the  opposi 
tion.  A  splendid  scare-crow  for  the  Wall  Street 
crowd,  but  difficult  to  nominate  over  Goodrich's 
man  Simpson  in  a  convention  of  practical  poli 
ticians. 

In  May — it  was  the  afternoon  of  the  very  day 
my  mutineers  got  back  into  the  harness — Wood 
ruff  asked  me  if  I  would  see  a  man  he  had  picked 
up  in  a  delegate-hunting  trip  into  Indiana.  "An 
old  pal  of  mine,  much  the  better  for  the  twelve 
years'  wear  since  I  last  saw  him.  He  has  always 
trained  with  the  opposition.  He's  a  full-fledged 
graduate  of  the  Indiana  school  of  politics,  and 
that's  the  best.  It's  almost  all  craft  there— they 
hate  to  give  up  money  and  don't  use  it  except  as  a 
last  resort." 

He  brought  in  his  man — Merriweather  by 
name.  I  liked  the  first  look  at  him — keen,  cynical, 
indifferent.  He  had  evidently  sat  in  so  many 
games  of  chance  of  all  kinds  that  play  roused  in 
him  only  the  ice-cold  passion  of  the  purely  profes 
sional. 

'There's  been  nothing  doing  in  our  state  for 


214  THE   PLUM   TREE 

the  last  two  or  three  years — at  least  nothing*  in 
my  line,"  said  he.  "A  rank  outsider,  Scarbo 
rough — " 

I  nodded.  "Yes,  I  know  him.  He  came  into 
the  Senate  from  your  state  two  years  ago." 

"Well,  he's  built  up  a  machine  of  his  own  and 
runs  things  to  suit  himself." 

"I  thought  he  wasn't  a  politician,"  said  I. 

Merriweather's  bony  face  showed  a  faint  grin. 
"The  best  ever,"  said  he.  "He's  put  the  profes 
sionals  out  of  business,  without  its  costing  him  a 
cent.  I've  got  tired  of  waiting  for  him  to  blow 


over." 


Tired — and  hungry,  I  thought.  After  half  an 
hour  of  pumping  I  sent  him  away,  detaining 
Woodruff.  "What  does  he  really  think  about 
Rundle?"  I  asked. 

"Says  he  hasn't  the  ghost  of  a  chance — that 
Scarborough'll  control  the  Indiana  delegation  and 
that  Scarborough  has  no  more  use  for  lunatics 
than  for  grafters." 

This  was  not  encouraging.  I  called  Merri- 
weather  back.  "Why  don't  you  people  nominate. 
Scarborough  at  St.  Louis  ?"  said  I. 


SCARBOROUGH  215 

Behind  his  surface  of  attention,  I  saw  his  mind 
traveling  at  lightning  speed  in  search  of  my  hid 
den  purpose  along  every  avenue  that  my  sugges 
tion  opened. 

"Scarborough'd  be  a  dangerous  man  for  you," 
he  replied.  "He's  got  a  nasty  way  of  reaching 
across  party  lines  for  votes." 

I  kept  my  face  a  blank. 

"You've  played  politics  only  in  your  own  state 
or  against  the  Eastern  crowd,  these  last  few 
years,"  he  went  on,  as  if  in  answer  to  my 
thoughts.  "You  don't  realize  what  a  hold  Scar 
borough's  got  through  the  entire  West.  He  has 
split  your  party  and  the  machine  of  his  own 
in  our  state,  and  they  know  all  about  him  and 
his  doings  in  the  states  to  the  west.  The  people 
like  a  fellow  that  knocks  out  the  regulars." 

"A  good  many  call  him  a  demagogue,  don't 
they?"  said  I. 

"Yes — and  he  is,  in  sort  of  a  way,"  replied 
Merriweather.  "But — well,  he's  got  a  knack  of 
telling  the  truth  so  that  it  doesn't  scare  folks. 
And  he's  managed  to  convince  them  that  he  isn't 
looking  out  for  number  one.  It  can't  be  denied 


216  THE   PLUM   TREE 

that  he  made  a  good  governor.  For  instance,  he 
got  after  the  monopolies,  and  the  cost  of  living 
is  twenty  per  cent,  lower  in  Indiana  than  just 
across  the  line  in  Ohio." 

"Then  I  should  say  that  all  the  large  interests 
in  the  country  would  line  up  against  him,"  said  I. 

"Every  one/'  said  Merriweather,  and  an  ex 
pression  of  understanding  flitted  across  his  face. 
He  went  on:  "But  it  ain't  much  use  talking 
about  him.  He  couldn't  get  the  nomination — at 
least,  it  wouldn't  be  easy  to  get  it  for  him." 

"I  suppose  not,"  said  I.  "That's  a  job  for  a 
first-class  man — and  they're  rare."  And  I  shook 
hands  with  him. 

About  a  week  later  he  returned,  and  tried  to 
make  a  report  to  me.  But  I  sent  him  away, 
treating  him  very  formally.  I  appreciated  that, 
being  an  experienced  and  capable  man,  he  knew 
the  wisdom  of  getting  intimately  in  touch  with  his 
real  employer;  but,  as  I  had  my  incomparable 
Woodruff,  better  far  than  I  at  the  rough  work 
of  politics,  there  was  no  necessity  for  my  entang 
ling  myself.  Merriweather  went  to  Woodruff,  and 
Woodruff  reported  to  me — Scarborough's  friends 


SCARBOROUGH  217 

in  Indianapolis  all  agreed  that  he  did  not  want  the 
nomination  and  would  not  have  it. 

"We  must  force  it  on  him/'  said  I.  "We  must 
have  Scarborough." 

Immediately  after  Burbank's  nomination, 
Goodrich  concentrated  upon  nominating  Judge 
Simpson.  He  had  three  weeks,  and  he  worked 
hard  and  well.  I  think  he  overdid  it  in  the  edi 
torials  in  our  party  organs  under  his  influence  in 
New  York,  Boston  and  other  eastern  cities — 
never  a  day  without  lugubrious  screeds  on  the 
dismal  outlook  for  Burbank  if  the  other  party 
should  put  up  Simpson.  But  his  Simpson  edito 
rials  in  big  opposition  papers  undoubtedly  pro 
duced  an  effect.  I  set  for  De  Milt  and  his  bureau 
of  underground  publicity  the  task  of  showing  up, 
as  far  as  it  was  prudent  to  expose  intimate  poli 
tics  to  the  public,  Goodrich  and  his  crowd  and 
their  conspiracy  with  Beckett  and  his  crowd  to 
secure  the  opposition  nomination  for  a  man  of 
the  same  offensive  type  as  Cromwell.  And  I  di 
rected  Woodruff  to  supply  Silliman  and  Merri- 
weather  and  that  department  of  my  "bi-partizan" 
machine  with  all  the  money  they  wanted.  "They 


218  THE   PLUM   TREE 

can't  spend  much  to  advantage  at  this  late  day  ex 
cept  for  traveling  expenses,"  said  I.  "Our  best 
plan,  anyhow,  is  good  honest  missionary  work 
with  the  honest  men  of  the  other  party  who  wish 
to  see  its  best  man  nominated." 

While  Goodrich's  agents  and  Beckett's  agents 
were  industriously  arranging  the  eastern  machin 
ery  of  the  opposition  party  for  Simpson,  Merri- 
weather  had  Silliman's  men  toiling  in  the  West 
and  South  to  get  Rundle  delegates  or  uninstruct- 
ed  delegations.  And,  after  our  conversation,  he 
was  reinforced  by  Woodruff  and  such  men  of  his 
staff  as  could  be  used  without  suspicion.  Wood 
ruff  himself  could  permeate  like  an  odorless  gas ; 
you  knew  he  was  there  only  by  the  results.  Noth 
ing  could  be  done  for  Rundle  in  his  own  state; 
but  the  farther  away  from  his  home  our  men  got, 
the  easier  it  was  to  induce — by  purchase  and 
otherwise — the  politicians  of  his  party  to  think 
well  of  him.  This  the  more  because  they  regard 
ed  Simpson  as  a  "stuff"  and  a  "stiff" — and  they 
weren't  far  wrong. 

"It  may  not  be  Scarborough,  and  it  probably 
won't  be  Rundle,"  Woodruff  said  in  his  final  re*1 


SCARBOROUGH  219 

port  to  me,  "but  it  certainly  won't  be  Simpson. 
He's  the  dead  one,  no  matter  how  well  he  does  on 
the  first  ballot." 

But  I  would  not  let  him  give  me  the  details — 
the  story  of  shrewd  and  slippery  plots,  strata 
gems,  surprises.  "I  am  worn  out,  mind  and 
body,"  said  I  in  apology  for  my  obvious  weariness 
and  indifference. 

For  six  months  I  had  been  incessantly  at  work. 
The  tax  upon  memory  alone,  to  say  nothing  of  the 
other  faculties,  had  been  crushing.  Easy  as  polit 
ical  facts  always  were  for  me,  I  could  not  lightly 
bear  the  strain  of  keeping  constantly  in  mind  not 
merely  the  outlines,  but  also  hundreds  of  the  de 
tails,  of  the  political  organizations  of  forty-odd 
states  with  all  their  counties.  And  the  tax  on 
memory  was  probably  the  least.  Then  added  to 
all  my  political  work  was  business  care ;  for  while 
I  was  absorbed  in  politics,  Ed  Ramsay  had  badly 
muddled  the  business.  Nor  had  I,  like  Burbank 
and  Woodruff,  the  power  to  empty  my  mind  as 
I  touched  the  pillow  and  so  to  get  eight  hours  of 
unbroken  rest  each  night. 

Woodruff  began  asking  me  for  instructions. 


220  THE   PLUM   TREE 

But  my  judgment  was  uncertain,  and  my  imagi 
nation  barren.  "Do  as  you  think  best,"  said  I. 
"I  must  rest.  I've  reached  my  limit," — my  limit 
of  endurance  of  the  sights  and  odors  and  befoul- 
ings  of  these  sewers  of  politics  I  must  in  person 
adventure  in  order  to  reach  my  goal.  I  must  pause 
and  rise  to  the  surface  for  a  breath  of  decent  air 
or  I  should  not  have  the  strength  to  finish  these 
menial  and  even  vile  tasks  which  no  man  can 
escape  if  he  is  a  practical  leader  in  the  practical 
activities  of  practical  life. 


XVIII 

A  DANGEROUS   PAUSE 

I  took  train  for  my  friend  Sandys'  country 
place  near  Cleveland,  forbidding  Woodruff  or 
Burbank  or  my  secretaries  to  communicate  with 
me.  Sandys  had  no  interest  in  politics — his  for 
tune  was  in  real  estate  and,  therefore,  did  not 
tempt  or  force  him  into  relations  with  political 
machines. 

Early  in  the  morning  after  my  arrival  I  got 
away  from  the  others  and,  with  a  stag-hound 
who  remembered  me  with  favor  from  my  last 
visit,  struck  into  woods  that  had  never  been  de 
spoiled  by  man.  As  I  tramped  on  and  on,  my 
mind  seemed  to  revive,  and  I  tried  to  take  up  the 
plots  and  schemes  that  had  been  all-important 
yesterday.  But  I  could  not.  Instead,  as  any  sane 
man  must  when  he  and  nature  are  alone  and  face 
to  face,  I  fell  to  marveling  that  I  could  burn  up 
myself,  the  best  of  me,  the  best  years  of  my  one 
life,  in  such  a  fever  of  folly  and  fraud  as  this 

221 


222  THE   PLUM   TREE 

political  career  of  mine.  I  seemed  to  be  in  a  lucid 
interval  between  paroxysms  of  insanity.  I  re 
viewed  the  men  and  things  of  my  world  as  one 
recalls  the  absurd  and  repellent  visions  of  a  night 
mare.  I  shrank  from  passing  from  this  mood  of 
wakefulness  and  reason  back  into  the  unreal  re 
ality  of  what  had  for  years  been  my  all-in-all.  I 
wandered  hour  after  hour,  sometimes  imagining 
that  I  was  flying  from  the  life  I  loathed,  again 
that  somewhere  in  those  cool,  green,  golden-light 
ed  mazes  I  should  find — my  lost  youth,  and  her. 
For,  how  could  I  think  of  it  without  thinking  of 
her  also  ?  It  had  been  lighted  by  her ;  it  had  gone 
with  her ;  it  lived  in  memory,  illumined  by  her. 

The  beautiful,  beautiful  world-that-ought-to- 
be  !  The  hideous,  the  horrible  world-that-is ! 

I  did  not  return  to  the  house  until  almost  din 
ner-time.  "I  have  to  go  away  to-morrow  morn 
ing/'  I  announced  after  dinner.  For  I  felt  that, 
if  I  did  not  fly  at  once,  I  should  lose  all  heart  for 
the  task  which  must  be  finished. 

"Why,"  protested  Sandys,  "you  came  to  stay 
until  we  all  started  with  you  for  St.  Louis." 

"I  must  go,"  I  repeated.   I  did  not  care  to  in- 


A  DANGEROUS   PAUSE  223 

vent  an  excuse ;  I  could  not  give  the  reason.  Had 
I  followed  my  impulse,  I  should  have  gone  at 
once,  that  night. 

By  noon  the  next  day  I  had  again  flung  myself 
into  the  vexed  political  ocean  whose  incessant  buf- 
fetings  give  the  swimmers  small  chance  to  think 
of  anything  beyond  the  next  oncoming  wave. 


XIX 

DAVID  SENT  OUT  AGAINST  GOLIATH 

I  was  almost  master  of  myself  again  when,  a 
week  later,  I  got  aboard  the  car  in  which  Carlotta 
and  I  were  taking  our  friends  to  look  on  at  the 
opposition's  convention  at  St.  Louis. 

When  we  arrived,  I  went  at  once  to  confer  with 
Merriweather  in  a  room  at  the  Southern  Hotel 
which  no  one  knew  he  had.  "Simpson  has  under, 
rather  than  over,  five  hundred  delegates,"  was  his 
first  item  of  good  news.  "It  takes  six  hundred 
and  fifty  to  nominate.  As  his  sort  of  boom  always 
musters  its  greatest  strength  on  the  first  ballot, 
I'm  putting  my  money  two  to  one  against  him." 

"And  Scarborough?"  I  asked,  wondering  at 
my  indifference  to  this  foreshadowing  of  tri 
umph. 

"My  men  talk  him  to  every  incoming  delega 
tion.  It's  well  known  that  he  don't  want  the 
nomination  and  has  forbidden  his  friends  to  vote 
for  him  and  has  pledged  them  to  work  against 
224 


DAVID    SENT   AGAINST   GOLIATH          225 

him.  Then,  too,  the  bosses  and  the  boys  don't 
like  him — to  put  it  mildly.  But  I  think  we're  mak 
ing  every  one  feel  he's  the  only  man  they  can  put 
up,  with  a  chance  to  beat  Burbank." 

My  wife  and  our  friends  and  I  dined  at  the 
Southern  that  night.  As  we  were  about  to  leave, 
the  streets  began  to  fill.  And  presently  through 
the  close-packed  masses  came  at  a  walk  an  open 
carriage — the  storm-center  of  a  roar  that  almost 
drowned  the  music  of  the  four  or  five  bands.  The 
electric  lights  made  the  scene  bright  as  day. 

"Who  is  he?"  asked  the  woman  at  my  side — 
Mrs.  Sandys. 

She  was  looking  at  the  man  in  that  carriage- 
there  were  four,  but  there  was  no  mistaking  him. 
He  was  seated,  was  giving  not  the  slightest  heed 
to  the  cheering  throngs.  His  soft  black  hat  was 
pulled  well  down  over  his  brows;  his  handsome 
profile  was  stern,  his  face  pale.  If  that  crowd 
had  been  hurling  curses  at  him  and  preparing  to 
tear  him  limb  from  limb  he  would  not  have  looked 
different.  He  was  smooth-shaven,  which  made 
him  seem  younger  than  I  knew  him  to  be.  And 
over  him  was  the  glamour  of  the  world-that- 


226  THE    PLUM   TREE 

ought-to-be  in  which  he  lived  and  had  the  power 
to  compel  others  to  live  as  long  as  they  were  un 
der  the  spell  of  his  personality. 

"That,"  I  replied  to  Mrs.  Sandys,  "is  Senator 
Scarborough  of  Indiana." 

"What's  he  so  stern  about?" 

"I'm  sure  I  don't  know — perhaps  to  hide  his 
joy,"  said  I. 

But  I  did  know,  and  my  remark  was  the  im 
pulsive  fling  of  envy.  He  had  found  out,  sev 
eral  weeks  before,  what  a  strong  undercurrent 
was  running  toward  him.  He  was  faced  by  a 
dilemma — if  he  did  not  go  to  the  convention,  it 
would  be  said  that  he  had  stayed  away  deliberate 
ly,  and  he  would  be  nominated ;  if  he  went,  to  try 
to  prevent  his  nomination,  the  enthusiasm  of  his 
admirers  and  followers  would  give  the  excuse  for 
forcing  the  nomination  upon  him.  And  as  he  sat 
there,  with  that  ominous  tumult  about  him,  he 
was  realizing  how  hard  his  task  was  to  be. 

His  companions  pushed  him  a  passage  through 
the  crowds  on  the  sidewalk  and  in  the  lobby,  and 
he  shut  himself  away  in  the  upper  part  of  the  ho 
tel.  When  we  left,  half  an  hour  later,  the  people 


THAT,       I    REPLIED 


OF    INDIANA 


IS    SENATOR    SCARBOROUGH 
226 


DAVID    SENT   AGAINST   GOLIATH          227 

were  packed  before  that  face  of  the  hotel  which 
displayed  the  banner  of  the  Indiana  delegation, 
were  cheering  Scarborough,  were  clamoring — 
in  vain — for  him  to  show  himself. 

"But  won't  he  offend  them?"  asked  my  wife. 

"A  crowd  loves  like  a  woman,"  said  I.  "In 
difference  only  excites  it." 

"Oh,  /  never  loved  that  way,"  protested  Mrs. 
Sandys. 

"Then,"  said  my  wife,  rather  sourly  I  thought, 
"you  and  Mr.  Sandys  have  something  to  live  for." 

And  so  we  talked  no  more  politics.  There  may 
be  American  women  who  really  like  to  talk  poli 
tics,  but  I  never  happened  to  know  one  with  so  lit 
tle  sense.  It's  a  pity  we  men  do  not  imitate  our 
women  more  closely  in  one  respect.  In  season  and 
out  of  season,  they  never  talk  anything  but  busi 
ness — woman's  one  business.  When  other  things 
are  being  discussed,  they  listen,  or  rather,  pre 
tend  to  listen;  in  reality,  their  minds  are  still 
on  their  business,  and  how  they  shall  contrive  to 
bring  it  back  into  the  conversation  with  advan 
tage  to  themselves. 

Next  day  the   convention   adopted   a  wishy- 


228  THE   PLUM   TREE 

washy  platform  much  like  Burbank's — if  any 
thing,  weaker.  I  saw  Goodrich's  blight  upon  it. 
But  the  victory  cost  him  dear.  That  night  the 
delegates  realized  what  a  blunder  they  had  made 
—or  thought  they  realized  it  after  Merriweather 
and  his  staff  had  circulated  among  them.  Few 
of  them  had  been  trusted  by  Beckett  with  the 
secret  that,  with  that  platform  and  with  Simpson 
as  the  nominee,  their  party  would  have  the  inter 
ests  behind  it,  would  almost  certainly  win.  They 
only  saw  ahead  a  dull  campaign,  and  no  real  issue 
between  the  parties,  and  their  candidate,  if  he  was 
Simpson,  much  the  less  attractive  personality  of 
the  two. 

The  following  morning  the  voting  began ;  and 
after  seven  ballots  Simpson  had  thirty-nine  votes 
less  than  on  the  first  ballot.  "It  was  like  a 
funeral,"  was  the  verdict  of  my  disappointed 
guests  that  evening.  A  night  of  debate  and 
gloom  among  the  politicians  and  other  delegates, 
and  on  the  opening  ballot  Merriweather  sprung 
his  trap. 

The  first  big  doubtful  state  in  the  alphabetical 
list  of  states  is  Illinois.  When  the  secretary  of 


DAVID    SENT   AGAINST   GOLIATH          229 

the  convention  called  for  Illinois'  vote,  it  was  cast 
solidly  for  Scarborough. 

There  was  straightway  pandemonium.  It  was 
half  an  hour  before  any  one  could  get  a  hearing. 
Then  Indiana  was  called,  and  Pierson,  attorney 
general  of  that  state  and  chairman  of  its  delega 
tion,  cast  its  vote  as  in  the  other  ballots,  for 
Kitchens,  its  governor.  From  my  box  I  was 
watching  Scarborough  and  his  immediate  friends 
going  from  delegation  to  delegation,  and  I  knew 
what  he  was  about.  When  Iowa  was  called  and 
cast  its  vote  solidly  for  him  I  knew  he  had  failed. 

"How  white  he  is !"  said  Mrs.  Sandys,  who  was 
looking  at  him  through  opera-glasses. 

I  borrowed  them  and  saw  that  his  gaze  was 
fixed  on  a  box  on  the  other  side  of  the  huge  audi 
torium,  on  a  woman  in  that  box — I  had  only  to 
look  at  her  to  see  which  woman.  She  was  beauti 
ful,  of  that  type  of  charm  which  the  French  sum 
up  in  the  phrase  "the  woman  of  thirty."  I  have 
heard  crowds  bellow  too  often  to  be  moved  by 
it — though  the  twenty  or  thirty  thousand  gathered 
under  that  roof  were  outdoing  the  cannonade  of 
any  thunderstorm.  But  that  woman's  look  in  re- 


230  THE   PLUM   TREE 

sponse  to  Scarborough's — there  was  sympathy 
and  understanding  in  it,  and  more,  infinitely  more. 
He  had  been  crushed  for  the  moment — and  I  un 
derstood  enough  of  his  situation  to  understand 
what  a  blow  to  all  his  plans  this  untimely  appar 
ent  triumph  was.  She  was  showing  that  she  too 
felt  the  blow,  but  she  was  also  sending  a  message 
of  courage  to  him — one  of  those  messages  that 
transcend  words,  like  music,  like  the  perfumes  of 
flowers  and  fields,  like  that  which  fills  us  as  we 
look  straight  up  into  a  clear  night  sky.  I  lowered 
the  glasses  and  looked  away — I  could  not  bear  it. 
For  the  moment  I  hated  him — hating  myself 
for  it. 

I  heard  Carlotta  asking  a  woman  in  the  box 
next  ours  the  name  of  "the  woman  with  the  white 
plume  in  the  big  black  hat  in  the  seventh  box  on 
the  other  side." 

"Mrs.  Scarborough,"  was  the  answer. 

"Oh,  is  that  she?"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Sandys,  al 
most  snatching  her  glasses  from  me  in  her  eager 
ness.  "You  know  who  she  was — John  Dumont's 
widow — you  remember  him?  She  must  be  an 
unusual  person  to  have  attracted  two  such  men." 


DAVID   SENT   AGAINST   GOLIATH          231 

But  Scarborough  was  nominated  now.  He 
waved  aside  those  who  tried  to  take  him  up  and 
bear  him  to  the  platform.  He  walked  down  the 
aisle  alone  and  ascended  amid  a  tense  silence ;  he 
stood  looking  calmly  out.  His  face  had  lost  its 
whiteness  of  a  few  minutes  before.  As  he  stood 
there,  big  and  still,  a  sort  of  embodiment  of  fear 
lessness,  I  wondered — and  I  fancy  many  Others 
were  wondering — whether  he  was  about  to  refuse 
the  nomination.  But  an  instant's  thought  drove 
the  wild  notion  from  my  mind.  He  could  not 
strike  that  deadly  blow  at  his  party. 

"Fellow  delegates,"  said  he — a  clearer,  more 
musical  voice  than  his  I  have  never  heard — "I 
thank  you  for  this  honor.  As  you  know,  I  opposed 
the  platform  you  saw  fit  to  adopt.  I  have  nothing 
to  retract.  I  do  not  like  it.  But,  after  all,  a  can 
didate  must  be  his  own  platform.  And  I  bring 
my  public  record  as  proof  of  my  pledge — that — " 
he  paused  and  the  silence  was  tremendous.  He 
went  on,  each  word  distinct  and  by  itself — "if  I 
am  elected" — a  long  pause — "I  shall  obey  the 
Constitution" — another  long  pause — "I  shall  en 
force  the  laws !" 


232  THE   PLUM   TREE 

He  was  descending  to  the  aisle  before  the 
silence  was  broken — a  feeble,  rippling  applause, 
significant  of  disappointment  at  what  seemed  an 
anti-climax.  He  had  merely  repeated  in  con 
densed  form  the  oath  of  office  which  a  President 
takes  at  his  inauguration.  But  somehow — no 
doubt,  it  was  the  magic  of  his  voice  and  his  man 
ner  and  superb  presence — those  simple  words 
kept  on  ringing ;  and  all  at  once — full  half  a  min 
ute  must  have  elapsed,  a  long  time  in  such  cir 
cumstances — all  at  once  the  enormous  meaning  of 
the  two  phrases  boomed  into  the  brains  of  those 
thousands :  If  this  man  is  elected,  there  will  be  a 
President  without  fear  or  favor,  and  he  will  really 
obey  the  Constitution,  will  really  enforce  the  laws! 
That  little  speech,  though  only  a  repetition  of  an 
bath  embodied  in  our  century-old  supreme  law, 
:  was  a  firebrand  to  light  the  torch  of  revolution, 
pf  revolution  back  toward  what  the  republic  used 
^o  be  before  differences  of  wealth  divided  its 
people  into  upper,  middle  and  lower  classes,  be 
fore  enthroned  corporate  combinations  made 
equality  before  the  law  a  mockery,  before  the  de 
velopment  of  our  vast  material  resources  restored 


DAVID    SENT   AGAINST   GOLIATH          233 

to  the  intelligent  and  energetic  few  their  power 
over  the  careless  and  purposeless  many. 

As  the  multitude  realized  his  meaning, — I 
doubt  if  many  times  in  all  history  such  a  sight 
and  sound  has  burst  upon  mortal  ears  and  eyes. 
For  the  moment  I  was  daunted ;  it  was  impossible 
not  to  think  that  here  was  the  whole  people,  not 
to  feel  that  Scarborough  had  been  chosen  Presi 
dent  and  was  about  to  fulfil  his  pledge.  Daunted, 
yet  thrilled  too.  For,  at  bottom,  are  we  not  all 
passionate  dreamers  of  abstract  right  and  justice? 

Then  I  remembered ;  and  I  said  to  myself,  "He 
has  defied  the  interests.  David  has  gone  out 
against  Goliath — but  the  Davids  do  not  win  now 
adays.  I  can  elect  Burbank." 

But  where  was  the  elation  that  thought  would 
have  set  to  swelling  in  the  me  of  less  than  two 
weeks  before?  And  then  I  began  clearly  to  see 
that,  for  me  at  least,  the  prize,  to  be  prized,  must 
be  fairly  won  from  start  to  goal;  and  to  be  en 
joyed,  must  gladden  eyes  that  would  in  turn  glad 
den  me  with  the  approval  and  sympathy  which 
only  a  woman  can  give  and  without  which  a  man 
is  alone  and  indeed  forlorn. 


XX 

PILGRIMS   AND    PATRIOTS 

From  St.  Louis  I  went  direct  to  Burbank. 

His  heart  had  been  set  upon  a  grand  speech- 
making  tour.  He  was  fond  of  wandering  about, 
showing  himself  to  cheering  crowds ;  and  he  had 
a  deep,  and  by  no  means  unwarranted,  confidence 
in  his  platform  magnetism.  At  first  I  had  been 
inclined  to  give  him  his  way.  But  the  more  I  con 
sidered  the  matter,  the  stronger  seemed  to  become 
the  force  of  the  objections — it  takes  a  far  bigger 
man  than  was  Burbank  at  that  stage  of  his  growth 
not  to  be  cheapened  by  "steeple-chasing  for 
votes";  also,  the  coming  of  the  candidate  causes 
jealousy  and  heart-burnings  over  matters  of  pre 
cedence,  reception  and  entertainment  among  the 
local  celebrities,  and  so  he  often  leaves  the  party 
lukewarm  where  he  found  it  enthusiastic.  Fur 
ther,  it  uses  up  local  campaign  money  that  ought 
to  be  spent  in  hiring  workers  at  the  polls,  which 
is  the  polite  phrase  for  vote-buying  as  "retaining- 
fee"  is  the  polite  phrase  for  bribe. 
234 


PILGRIMS   AND    PATRIOTS  235 

I  decided  against  the  tour  and  for  the  highly- 
expensive  but  always  admirable  and  profitable 
"pilgrimage  plan". 

Burbank's  own  home  was  at  Rivington,  and 
I  should  have  had  him  visited  there,  had  it  not 
been  on  a  single-track  branch-railway  which  could 
not  handle  without  danger  and  discomfort  the 
scores  of  thousands  we  were  planning  to  carry  to 
and  from  him  almost  daily.  So,  it  was  given  out 
that  he  purposed  as  far  as  possible  to  withdraw 
from  the  strife  of  the  campaign  and  to  await  the 
results  in  the  dignified  calm  in  which  he  wished 
the  voters  to  determine  it.  He  took — after  Wood 
ruff  had  carefully  selected  it — a  "retired"  house 
"in  the  country." 

And  it  was  in  the  open  country.  A  farm  gar 
den  adjoined  it  on  the  one  side,  a  wheat  field  on 
the  other,  a  large  orchard  to  the  rear.  The  broad 
meadow  in  front  gave  plenty  of  room  for  dele 
gations  visiting  the  "standard  bearer  of  the  party 
of  patriotism"  in  his  "rural  seclusion,"  to  hear 
his  simple,  spontaneous  words  of  welcome.  But 
for  all  the  remote  aspect  of  the  place,  it  was  only 
five  minutes'  drive  and  ten  minutes'  walk  from  a 


236  THE   PLUM   TREE 

station  through  which  four  big  railroads  passed. 
One  of  the  out-buildings  was  changed  into  a  tele 
graph  office  from  which  accounts  of  the  enthusi 
asm  of  the  delegations  and  of  his  speeches  could 
be  sent  to  the  whole  country.  On  his  desk  in  his 
little  study  stood  a  private-wire  telephone  that, 
without  danger  of  leakage,  would  put  him  in 
direct  communication  either  with  my  study  at 
Fredonia  or  with  Doc  Woodruff's  privatest  pri 
vate  room  in  the  party  national  headquarters  at 
Chicago.  Thus,  our  statesman,  though  he  seemed 
to  be  aloof,  was  in  the  very  thick  of  the  fray ;  and 
the  tens  of  thousands  of  his  fellow  citizens,  though 
they  seemed  to  come  almost  on  their  own  invita 
tion  inspired  by  uncontrollable  enthusiasm  for  the 
great  statesman,  were  in  fact  free  excursionists 
— and  a  very  troublesome,  critical,  expensive  lot 
they  were.  But — the  public  was  impressed.  It 
sits  in  its  seat  in  the  theater  of  action  and  be 
lieves  that  the  play  is  real,  and  ignores  and  for 
gets  the  fact  that  there  is  a  behind-the-scenes. 

The  party  distributed  from  various  centers  tons 
of  "literature."  And  in  addition  to  meetings  ar 
ranged  by  state  and  local  committees,  a  series  of 


PILGRIMS   AND   PATRIOTS  237 

huge  demonstrations  was  held  in  the  cities  of 
every  doubtful  state.  Besides  the  party's  regular 
speakers,  we  hired  as  many  "independent"  orators 
as  we  could.  But  all  these  other  branches  of  the 
public  side  of  the  campaign  were  subsidiary  to  the 
work  at  the  "retreat."  It  might  be  called  the 
headquarters  of  the  rank  and  file  of  the  party — 
those  millions  of  "principle"  voters  and  workers 
who  were  for  Burbank  because  he  was  the  stan 
dard-bearer  of  their  party.  No  money,  no  bribes 
of  patronage  have  to  be  given  to  them ;  but  it  costs 
several  millions  to  raise  that  mass  to  the  pitch  of 
hot  enthusiasm  which  will  make  each  individual  in 
it  certain  to  go  to  the  polls  on  election  day  and 
take  his  neighbors,  instead  of  staying  at  home 
and  hoping  the  party  won't  lose. 

Burbank's  work  was,  therefore,  highly  im 
portant.  But  the  seat  of  the  real  campaign  was 
Woodruff's  privatest  private  room  in  the  Chicago 
headquarters.  For,  there  were  laid  and  were  put 
in  the  way  of  execution  the  plans  for  acquiring 
those  elements  that,  in  the  doubtful  states,  have 
the  balance  of  power  between  the  two  opposing 
and  about  evenly  matched  masses  of  "principle" 


238  THE   PLUM   TREE 

voters.  I  just  now  recall  a  talk  I  had  with  my 
wife,  about  that  time.  She  took  no  interest  in  pol 
itics  and  rarely  spoke  of  political  matters — and 
both  of  us  discouraged  political  talk  before  the 
children.  One  day  she  said  to  me :  "This  cam 
paign  of  yours  and  Mr.  Burbank's  must  be  cost 
ing  an  awful  lot  of  money." 

"A  good  deal,"  said  I. 

"Several  millions?" 

"This  is  a  big  country,  and  you  can't  stir  it  up 
politically  for  nothing.  Why  do  you  ask?" 

"Who  gives  the  money  ?"  she  persisted. 

"The  rich  men — the  big  corporations — give 
most  of  it." 

"Why?" 

"Patriotism,"  said  I.  "To  save  the  nation  from 
our  wicked  opponent." 

"How  do  Mr.  Roebuck  and  the  others  get  it 
back?"  she  pursued,  ignoring  my  pleasantry. 

"Get  what  back?" 

"Why  the  money  they  advance.  They  aren't 
the  men  to  give  anything." 

I  answered  with  a  smile  only. 

She  lapsed  into  thoughtfulness.    When  I  wag 


PILGRIMS   AND    PATRIOTS  239 

assuming  that  her  mind  had  wandered  off  to 
something  else  she  said :  "The  people  must  be 
very  stupid — not  to  suspect." 

"Or,  the  rich  men  and  the  corporations  very 
stupid  to  give,"  I  suggested. 

"Do  you  mean  that  they  don't  get  it  back?"  she 
demanded. 

"Of  course,"  said  I,  "their  patriotism  must  be 
rewarded.  We  can  not  expect  them  to  save  the 
country  year  after  year  for  nothing." 

"I  should  think  not!"  she  said,  adding  dis 
gustedly,  "I  think  politics  is  very  silly.  And  men 
get  excited  about  it !  But  I  never  listen." 

Arriving  at  the  "retreat"  from  the  Scarbor 
ough  convention,  I  found  Burbank  much  per 
turbed  because  Scarborough  had  been  nominated. 
He  did  not  say  so — on  the  contrary,  he  expressed 
in  sonorous  phrases  his  satisfaction  that  there 
was  to  be  "a  real  test  of  strength  between  con 
servatism  and  radicalism."  He  never  dropped  his 
pose,  even  with  me — not  even  with  himself. 

"I  confess  I  don't  share  your  cheerfulness," 
said  I.  "If  Scarborough  were  a  wild  man,  we'd 
have  a  walkover.  But  he  isn't,  and  I  fear  he'll  be 


24o  THE   PLUM   TREE 

more  and  more  attractive  to  the  wavering  voters, 
to  many  of  our  own  people.  Party  loyalty  has 
been  overworked  in  the  last  few  presidential  cam 
paigns.  He'll  go  vote-hunting  in  the  doubtful 
states,  but  it  won't  seem  undignified.  He's  one  of 
those  men  whose  dignity  comes  from  the  inside 
and  can't  be  lost." 

Burbank  was  unable  to  conceal  his  annoyance 
— he  never  could  bear  praise  of  another  man  of 
his  own  rank  in  public  life.  Also  he  showed  sur 
prise.  "Why,  I  understood — I  had  been  led  to  be 
lieve — that  you — favored  his  nomination,"  was 
his  guarded  way  of  telling  me  he  knew  I  had  a 
hand  in  bringing  it  about. 

"So  I  did,"  replied  I.  "He  was  your  only 
chance.  He  won't  be  able  to  get  a  campaign  fund 
of  so  much  as  a  quarter  of  a  million,  and  the  best 
workers  of  his  party  will  at  heart  be  against  him. 
Simpson  would  have  had — well,  Goodrich  could 
and  would  have  got  him  enough  to  elect  him." 

Burbank's  eyes  twitched.  "I  think  you're  preju 
diced  against  Senator  Goodrich,  Harvey,"  said  he 
in  his  gentlest  tone.  "He  is  first  of  all  a  loyal 
party  man." 


PILGRIMS   AND    PATRIOTS  241 

"Loyal  fiddlesticks!"  replied  I.  "He  is  agent 
of  the  Wall  Street  crowd — they're  his  party. 
He's  just  the  ordinary  machine  politician,  with 
no  more  party  feeling  than — than — "  I  smiled — 
"than  any  other  man  behind  the  scenes." 

Burbank  dodged  this  by  taking  it  as  a  jest.  He 
always  shed  my  frank  speeches  as  humor.  "Preju 
dice,  prejudice,  Harvey !"  he  said  in  mild  reproof. 
"We  need  Goodrich,  and—" 

"Pardon  me,"  I  interrupted.  "We  do  not  need 
him.  On  the  contrary,  we  must  put  him  out  of  the 
party  councils.  If  we  don't,  he  may  try  to  help 
Scarborough.  The  Senate's  safe,  no  matter  who's 
elected  President ;  and  Goodrich  will  rely  on  it  to 
save  his  crowd.  He's  a  mountain  of  vanity  and 
the  two  defeats  we've  given  him  have  made  every 
atom  of  that  vanity  quiver  with  hatred  of  us." 

"I  wish  you  could  have  been  here  when  he 
called,"  said  Burbank.  "I  am  sure  you  would 
have  changed  your  mind." 

"When  does  he  resign  the  chairmanship  of  the 
national  committee?"  I  asked.  "He  agreed  to 
plead  bad  health  and  resign  within  two  weeks 
after  the  convention." 


242  THE   PLUM   TREE 

Burbank  gave  an  embarrassed  cough.  "Don't 
you  think,  Harvey,"  said  he,  "that,  to  soothe  his 
vanity,  it  might  be  well  for  us — for  you — to  let 
him  stay  on  there — nominally,  of  course  ?  I  know 
you  care  nothing  for  titles/' 

Instead  of  being  angered  by  this  attempt  to 
cozen  me,  by  this  exhibition  of  treachery,  I  felt 
disgust  and  pity — how  nauseating  and  how  hope 
less  to  try  to  forward  one  so  blind  to  his  own  in 
terests,  so  easily  frightened  into  surrender  to  his 
worst  enemies !  But  I  spoke  very  quietly  to  him. 
"The  reason  you  want  me  to  be  chairman — for  it 
is  you  that  want  and  need  it,  not  I — the  reason  I 
must  be  chairman  is  because  the  machine  through 
out  the  country  must  know  that  Goodrich  is  out 
and  that  your  friends  are  in.  In  what  other  way 
can  this  be  accomplished  ?" 

He  did  not  dare  try  to  reply. 

I  went  on :  "If  he  stays  at  the  head  of  the  na 
tional  committee  Scarborough  will  be  elected." 

"You  are  prejudiced,  Harvey — " 

"Please  don't  say  that  again,  Governor/'  I  in 
terrupted  coldly.  "I  repeat,  Goodrich  must  give 
place  to  me,  or  Scarborough  will  be  elected." 


PILGRIMS   AND    PATRIOTS  243 

"You  don't  mean  that  you  would  turn  against 
me  ?"  came  from  him  in  a  queer  voice  after  a  long 
pause. 

"While  I  was  in  St.  Louis,  working  to  make 
you  President,"  said  I,  "you  were  plotting  be 
hind  my  back,  plotting  against  me  and  yourself." 

"You  were  at  St.  Louis  aiding  in  the  nomina 
tion  of  the  strongest  candidate,"  he  retorted,  his 
bitterness  distinct  though  guarded. 

"Strongest — yes.   But  strongest  with  whom?" 

"With  the  people,"  he  replied. 

"Precisely,"  said  I.  "But  the  people  are  not 
going  to  decide  this  election.  The  party  lines  are 
to  be  so  closely  drawn  that  money  will  have  the 
deciding  vote.  The  men  who  organize  and  direct 
industry  and  enterprise — they  are  going  to  de 
cide  it.  And,  in  spite  of  Goodrich's  traitorous  ef 
forts,  the  opposition  has  put  up  the  man  who  can't 
get  a  penny  from  them." 

In  fact,  I  had  just  discovered  that  Scarborough 
had  instructed  Pierson,  whom  he  had  made  chair 
man  of  his  campaign,  not  to  take  any  money 
from  any  corporation  even  if  it  was  offered.  But 
I  thought  it  wiser  to  keep  this  from  Burbank. 


244  THE   PLUM  TREE 

He  sat  folding  a  sheet  of  paper  again  and  again. 
I  let  him  reason  it  out.  Finally  he  said:  "I  see 
your  point,  Harvey.  But  I  practically  promised 
Goodrich — practically  asked  him  to  remain — " 

I  waited. 

"For  the  sake  of  the  cause,"  he  went  on  when 
he  saw  he  was  to  get  no  help  from  me,  "any  and 
all  personal  sacrifices  must  be  made.  If  you  insist 
on  having  Goodrich's  head,  I  will  break  my 
promise,  and — " 

"Pardon  me  again/'  I  interrupted.  My  mood 
would  not  tolerate  twaddle  about  "the  cause"  and 
"promises"  from  Burbank — Burbank,  whose 
"cause,"  as  he  had  just  shown  afresh,  was  him 
self  alone,  and  who  promised  everything  to  every 
body  and  kept  only  the  most  advantageous  prom 
ises  after  he  had  made  absolutely  sure  how  his 
advantage  lay.  "It's  all  a  matter  of  indifference 
to  me.  If  you  wish  to  retain  Goodrich,  do  so. 
He  must  not  be  dismissed  as  a  personal  favor  to 
me.  The  favor  is  to  you.  I  do  not  permit  any 
man  to  thimblerig  his  debts  to  me  into  my  debts 
to  him." 

Burbank  seemed  deeply  moved.  He  came  up  to 


PILGRIMS   AND    PATRIOTS  245 

me  and  took  my  hand.  "It  is  not  like  my  friend 
Sayler  to  use  the  word  indifference  in  connection 
with  me/'  he  said.  And  then  I  realized  how  com 
pletely  the  nomination  had  turned  his  head.  For 
his  tone  was  that  of  the  great  man  addressing  his 
henchman. 

I  did  not  keep  my  amusement  out  of  my  eyes. 
"James,"  said  I,  "indifference  is  precisely  the 
word.  I  should  welcome  a  chance  to  withdraw 
from  this  campaign.  I  have  been  ambitious  for 
power,  you  want  place.  If  you  think  the  time  has 
come  to  dissolve  partnership,  say  so — and  trade 
yourself  off  to  Goodrich." 

He  was  angry  through  and  through,  not  so 
much  at  my  bluntness  as  at  my  having  seen  into 
his  plot  to  help  himself  at  my  expense — for,  not 
even  when  I  showed  it  to  him,  could  he  see  that 
it  was  to  his  interest  to  destroy  Goodrich.  Moral 
coward  that  he  was,  the  course  of  conciliation  al 
ways  appealed  to  him,  whether  it  was  wise  or  not, 
and  the  course  of  courage  always  frightened  him. 
He  bit  his  lip  and  dissembled  his  anger.  Presently 
he  began  to  pace  up  and  down  the  room,  his  head 
bent,  his  hands  clasped  behind  him.  After  per- 


246  THE   PLUM   TREE 

haps  five  minutes  he  paused  to  say :  "You  insist 
on  taking  the  place  yourself,  Harvey?" 

I  stood  before  him  and  looked  down  at  him. 
"Your  suspicion  that  I  have  also  a  personal  rea 
son  is  well-founded,  James,"  said  I.  "I  wouldn't 
put  myself  in  a  position  where  I  should  have  to 
ask  as  a  favor  what  I  now  get  as  a  right.  If  I  help 
you  to  the  presidency,  I  must  be  master  of  the 
national  machine  of  the  party,  able  to  use  it  with 
all  its  power  and  against  any  one — "  here  I  looked 
him  straight  in  the  eye — "who  shall  try  to  build 
himself  up  at  my  expense.  Personally,  we  are 
friends,  and  it  has  been  a  pleasure  to  me  to  help 
elevate  a  man  I  liked.  But  there  is  no  friendship  in 
affairs,  except  where  friendship  and  interest  point 
the  same  way.  It  is  strange  that  a  man  of  your 
experience  should  expect  friendship  from  me  at 
a  time  when  you  are  showing  that  you  haven't 
for  me  even  the  friendship  of  enlightened  self- 
interest." 

"Your  practice  is  better  than  your  theory,  Har 
vey,"  said  he,  putting  on  an  injured,  forgiving 
look  and  using  his  chest  tones.  "A  better  friend 
never  Jived  than  you,  and  I  know  no  other  man 


PILGRIMS   AND    PATRIOTS  247 

who  gets  the  absolute  loyalty  you  get."  He  looked 
at  me  earnestly.  "What  has  changed  you?"  he 
asked.  "Why  are  you  so  bitter  and  so — so  un 
like  your  even-tempered  self?" 

I  waved  his  question  aside, — I  had  no  mind  to 
show  him  my  uncovered  coffin  with  its  tenant  who 
only  slept,  or  to  expose  to  him  the  feelings  which 
the  erect  and  fearless  figure  of  Scarborough  had 
set  to  stirring  in  me.  "I'm  careful  to  choose  my 
friends  from  among  those  who  can  serve  me  and 
whom  I  can  therefore  serve,"  I  said.  "And  that 
is  the  sentimentalism  of  the  wise.  I  wish  us  to 
remain  friends — therefore,  I  must  be  able  to  be 
as  useful  to  you  as  you  can  be  useful  to  me." 

"Goodrich  shall  go,"  was  the  upshot  of  his 
thinking.  "I'll  telephone  him  this  afternoon.  Is 
my  old  friend  satisfied  ?" 

"You  have  done  what  was  best  for  yourself," 
said  I,  with  wholly  good-humored  raillery.  And 
we  shook  hands,  and  I  went. 

I  was  glad  to  be  alone  where  I  could  give  way 
to  my  weariness  and  disgust;  for  I  had  lost  all 
the  joy  of  the  combat.  The  arena  of  ambition  had 
now  become  to  me  a  ring  where  men  are  devoured 


248  THE   PLUM   TREE 

by  the  beast-in-man  after  hideous  battles.  I  turned 
from  it,  heart-sick.  "If  only  I  had  less  intelli 
gence,  less  insight,"  I  thought,  "so  that  I  could 
cheat  myself  as  Burbank  cheats  himself.  Or,  if 
I  had  the  relentlessness  or  the  supreme  egotism, 
or  whatever  it  is,  that  enables  great  men  to  tram 
ple  without  a  qualm,  to  destroy  without  pity,  to 
enjoy  without  remorse." 


XXI 

AN   INTERLUDE 

My  nerves  began  to  feel  as  if  some  one  were 
gently  sliding  his  fingers  along  their  bared  length 
— not  a  pain,  but  as  fear-inspiring  as  the  sound 
of  the  stealthy  creep  of  the  assassin  moving  up 
behind  to  strike  a  sudden  and  mortal  blow.  I  dis 
missed  business  and  politics  and  went  cruising  on 
the  lakes  with  restful,  non-political  Fred  Sandys. 

After  we  had  been  knocking  about  perhaps  a 
week,  we  landed  one  noon  at  the  private  pier  of 
the  Liscombes  to  lunch  with  them.  As  Sandys 
and  I  strolled  toward  the  front  of  the  house,  sev 
eral  people,  also  guests  for  lunch,  were  just  de 
scending  from  a  long  buckboard.  At  sight  of  one 
of  them  I  stopped  short  inside,  though  I  mechan 
ically  continued  to  walk  toward  her.  I  recognized 
her  instantly — the  curve  of  her  shoulders,  the 
poise  of  her  head,  and  her  waving  jet-black  hair 
to  confirm.  And  without  the  slightest  warning 
there  came  tumbling  and  roaring  up  in  me  a  tor- 
249 


250  THE   PLUM   TREE 

rent  of  longings,  regrets;  and  I  suddenly  had  a 
clear  understanding  of  my  absorption  in  this 
wretched  game  I  had  been  playing  year  in  and 
year  out  with  hardly  a  glance  up  from  the  table. 
That  wretched  game  with  its  counterfeit  stakes; 
and  the  more  a  man  wins,  the  poorer  he  is. 

She  seemed  calm  enough  as  she  faced  me.  In 
deed,  I  was  not  sure  when  she  had  first  caught 
sight  of  me,  or  whether  she  had  recognized  me, 
until  Mrs.  Liscombe  began  to  introduce  us.  "Oh, 
yes,"  she  then  interrupted,  "I  remember  Senator 
Sayler  very  well.  We  used  to  live  in  the  same 
town.  We  went  to  the  same  school."  And  with  a 
friendly  smile  she  gave  me  her  hand. 

What  did  I  say  ?  I  do  not  know.  But  I  am  sure 
I  gave  no  sign  of  the  clamor  within.  I  had  not 
cultivated  surface-calm  all  those  years  in  vain.  I 
talked,  and  she  talked — but  I  saw  only  her  face, 
splendid  fulfilment  of  the  promise  of  girlhood; 
I  hardly  heard  her  words,  so  greatly  was  her 
voice  moving  me.  It  was  an  unusually  deep  voice 
for  a  woman,  sweet  and  with  a  curious  carrying 
quality  that  made  it  seem  stronger  than  it  was. 
In  figure  she  was  delicate,  but  radiant  of  life  and 


AN   INTERLUDE  251 

health — aglow,  not  ablaze.  She  was  neither  tall 
nor  short,  and  was  dressed  simply,  but  in  the 
fashion — I  heard  the  other  women  discussing  her 
clothes  after  she  left.  And  she  still  had  the  man 
nerism  that  was  most  fascinating  to  me — she  kept 
her  eyes  down  while  she  was  talking  or  listening, 
and  raised  them  now  and  then  with  a  full,  slow 
look  at  you. 

When  Mrs.  Liscombe  asked  her  to  come  to  din 
ner  the  next  evening  with  the  people  she  was  visit 
ing,  she  said:  "Unfortunately,  I  must  start  for 
Washington  in  the  morning.  I  am  overhauling 
my  school  and  building  an  addition." 

It  had  not  occurred  to  me  to  think  where  she 
had  come  from  or  how  she  happened  to  be  there, 
or  of  anything  in  the  years  since  I  was  last  with 
her.  The  reminder  that  she  had  a  school  came  as 
a  shock — she  was  so  utterly  unlike  my  notion  of 
the  head  of  a  school.  I  think  she  saw  or  felt  what 
was  in  my  mind,  for  she  went  on,  to  me:  "I've 
had  it  six  years  now — the  next  will  be  the  sev 
enth." 

"Do  you  like  it?"  I  asked. 

"Don't  I  look  like  a  happy  woman?" 


252  THE   PLUM   TREE 

"You  do,"  said  I,  after  our  eyes  had  met.  "You 
are." 

"There  were  sixty  girls  last  year — sixty-three," 
she  went  on.  "Next  year  there  will  be  more — 
about  a  hundred.  It's  like  a  garden,  and  I'm  the 
gardener,  busy  from  morning  till  night,  with  no 
time  to  think  of  anything  but  my  plants  and 
flowers." 

She  had  conjured  a  picture  that  made  my  heart 
ache.  I  suddenly  felt  old  and  sad  and  lonely — a 
forlorn  failure.  "I  too  am  a  gardener,"  said  I. 
"But  it's  a  sorry  lot  of  weeds  and  thistles  that 
keeps  me  occupied.  And  in  the  midst  of  the 
garden  is  a  plum  tree — that  bears  Dead  Sea 
fruit." 

She  was  silent. 

"You  don't  care  for  politics?"  said  I. 

"No,"  she  replied,  and  lifted  and  lowered  her 
eyes  in  a  slow  glance  that  made  me  wish  I  had  not 
asked.  "It  is,  I  think,  gardening  with  weeds  and 
thistles,  as  you  say."  Then,  after  a  pause :  "Do 
you  like  it?" 

"Don't  ask  me,"  I  said  with  a  bitterness  that 
made  us  both  silent  thereafter. 


AN   INTERLUDE  253 

That  evening  I  got  Fred  to  land  me  at  the 
nearest  town.  The  train  she  must  have  been  on 
had  just  gone.  In  the  morning  I  took  the  express 
for  the  East.  Arrived  at  Washington,  I  drove 
straight  to  her  school. 

A  high  iron  fence,  not  obstructing  the  view 
from  the  country  road ;  a  long  drive  under  arch 
ing  maples  and  beeches;  a  rambling,  fascinating 
old  house  upon  the  crest  of  a  hill ;  many  windows, 
a  pillared  porch,  a  low,  very  wide  doorway.  It 
seemed  like  her  in  its  dark,  cool,  odorous  beauty. 

She  herself  was  in  the  front  hall,  directing 
some  workmen.  "Why,  Senator  Sayler,  this  is  a 
surprise,"  she  said,  advancing  to  greet  me.  But 
there  was  no  suggestion  of  surprise  in  her  tone  or 
her  look,  only  a  friendly  welcome  to  an  acquaint 
ance. 

She  led  the  way  into  the  drawing-room  to  the 
left.  The  furniture  and  pictures  were  in  ghostly 
draperies ;  everything  was  in  confusion.  We  went 
on  to  a  side  veranda,  seated  ourselves.  She  looked 
inquiringly  at  me. 

"I  do  not  know  why,"  was  my  answer.  "I  only 
know — I  had  to  come." 


254  THE   PLUM   TREE 

She  studied  me  calmly.  I  remember  her  look, 
everything  about  her — the  embroidery  on  the 
sleeves  and  bosom  of  her  blouse,  the  buckles  on 
her  white  shoes.  I  remember  also  that  there  was 
a  breeze,  and  how  good  it  felt  to  my  hot  face,  to 
my  eyes  burning  from  lack  of  sleep.  At  last  she 
said :  "Well — what  do  you  think  of  my  little 
kingdom  ?" 

"It  is  yours — entirely?" 

"House,  gardens — everything.  I  paid  the  last 
of  my  debts  in  June." 

"I'm  contrasting  it  with  my  own,"  I  said. 

"But  that  isn't  fair,"  she  protested  with  a 
smile.  "You  must  remember,  I'm  only  a  woman." 

"With  my  own,"  I  went  on,  as  if  she  had  not 
interrupted.  "Yours  is — yours,  honestly  got.  It 
makes  you  proud,  happy.  Mine — "  I  did  not 
finish. 

She  must  have  seen  or  felt  how  profoundly  I 
was  moved,  for  I  presently  saw  her  looking  at  me 
with  an  expression  I  might  have  resented  for  its 
pity  from  any  other  than  her.  "Why  do  you  tell 
me  this?"  she  asked. 

"There  is  always  for  every  one,"  was  my  an- 


AN   INTERLUDE  255 

swer,  "some  person  to  whom  he  shows  himself  as 
he  is.  You  are  that  person  for  me  because — I'm 
surrounded  by  people  who  care  for  me  for  what 
I  can  give.  Even  my  children  care  to  a  great  ex 
tent  for  that  reason.  It's  the  penalty  for  having 
the  power  to  give  the  material  things  all  human 
beings  crave.  Only  two  persons  ever  cared — cared 
much  for  me  just  because  I  was  myself.  They 
were  my  mother — and  you." 

She  laughed  in  quiet  raillery.  "Two  have 
cared  for  you,  but  you  have  cared  for  only  one. 
And  what  devotion  you  have  given  him !" 

"I  have  cared  for  my  mother — for  my  chil 
dren—" 

"Yes — your  children.    I  forgot  them." 

"And— for  you." 

She  made  what  I  thought  a  movement  of  im 
patience. 

"For  you,"  I  repeated.  Then :  "Elizabeth,  you 
were  right  when  you  wrote  that  I  was  a  coward." 

She  rose  and  stood — near  enough  to  me  for  me 
to  catch  her  faint,  elusive  perfume — and  gazed  out 
into  the  distance. 

"In  St.  Louis  the  other  day,"  I  went  on,  "I 


256  THE  PLUM  TREE 

saw  a  man  who  has  risen  to  power  greater  than 
I  can  ever  hope  to  have.  And  he  got  it  by  march 
ing  erect  in  the  open." 

"Yet  you  have  everything  you  used  to  want," 
she  said  dreamily. 

"Yes — everything.  Only  to  learn  how  worth 
less  what  I  wanted  was.  And  for  this  trash,  this 
dirt,  I  have  given — all  I  had  that  was  of  value." 

"All?" 

"All,"  I  replied.  "Your  love  and  my  own  self- 
respect." 

"Why  do  you  think  youVe  not  been  brave?" 
she  asked  after  a  while. 

"Because  I've  won  by  playing  on  the  weak 
nesses  and  fears  of  men  which  my  own  weak 
nesses  and  fears  enabled  me  to  understand." 

"You  have  done  wrong — deliberately?" 

"Deliberately." 

"But  that  good  might  come  ?" 

"So  I  told  myself." 

"And  good  has  come  ?  I  have  heard  that  figs  do 
grow  on  thistles." 

"Good  has  come.  But,  I  think,  in  spite  of  me, 
not  through  me." 


AN   INTERLUDE  257 

"But  now  that  you  see/'  she  said,  turning  her 
eyes  to  mine  with  appeal  in  them,  and  something 
more,  I  thought,  "you  will — you  will  not  go 
on?" 

"I  don't  know.  Is  there  such  a  thing  as  re 
morse  without  regret?"  And  then  my  self-control 
went  and  I  let  her  see  what  I  had  commanded 
myself  to  keep  hid :  "I  only  know  clearly  one 
thing,  Elizabeth — only  one  thing  matters.  You 
are  the  whole  world  to  me.  You  and  I  could — 
what  could  we  not  do  together !" 

Her  color  slowly  rose,  slowly  vanished.   "Was 
that  what  you  came  to  tell  me?"  she  asked. 
"Yes,"  I  answered,  not  flinching. 
"That  is  the  climax  of  your  moralizings  ?" 
"Yes,"  I  answered.  "And  of  my  cowardice." 
A  little  icy  smile  just  changed  the  curve  of  her 
lips.   "When  I  was  a  girl,  you  won  my  love — or 
took  it  when  I  gave  it  to  you,  if  you  prefer.  And 
then — you  threw  it  away.    For  an  ambition  you 
weren't  brave  enough  to  pursue  honorably,  you 
broke  my  heart." 

"Yes,"  I  answered.   "But— I  loved  you." 
"And  now,"  she  went  on,  "after  your  years  of 


258  THE   PLUM   TREE 

self-indulgence,  of  getting  what  you  wanted,  no 
matter  about  the  cost,  you  see  me  again.  You  find 
I  have  mended  my  heart,  have  coaxed  a  few 
flowers  of  happiness  to  bloom.  You  find  there  was 
something  you  did  not  destroy,  something  you 
think  it  will  make  you  happier  to  destroy." 

"Yes,"  I  answered,  "I  came  to  try  to  make  you 
as  unhappy  as  I  am.  For  I  love  you." 

She  drew  a  long  breath.  "Well,"  she  said 
evenly,  "for  the  first  time  in  your  life  you  are  de 
feated.  I  learned  the  lesson  you  so  thoroughly 
taught  me.  And  I  built  the  wall  round  my  garden 
high  and  strong.  You — "  she  smiled,  a  little 
raillery,  a  little  scorn — "you  can't  break  in,  Har 
vey — nor  slip  in." 

"No  need,"  I  said.  "For  I  am  in — I've  always 
been  in." 

Her  bosom  rose  and  fell  quickly,  and  her  eyes 
shifted.  But  that  was  for  an  instant  only.  "If 
you  were  as  brave  as  you  are  bold !"  she  scoffed. 

"If  I  were  as  brave  without  you  as  I  should  be 
with  you !"  I  replied.  Then :  "But  you  love  as 
a  woman  loves — herself  first,  the  man  afterward." 

"Harvey  Sayler  denouncing  selfishness !" 


AN   INTERLUDE  259 

"Do  not  sneer,"  I  said.  "For — I  love  you  as 
a  man  loves.  A  poor,  pale  shadow  of  ideal  love, 
no  doubt,  but  a  man's  best,  Elizabeth." 

I  saw  that  she  was  shaken ;  but  even  as  I  began 
to  thrill  with  a  hope  so  high  that  it  was  giddy 
with  fear,  she  was  once  more  straight  and  strong 
and  calm. 

"You  have  come.  You  have  tried.  You  have 
failed,"  she  went  on  after  a  long  pause.  And  in 
spite  of  her  efforts,  that  deep  voice  of  hers  was 
gentle  and  wonderfully  sweet.  "Now — you  will 
return  to  your  life,  I  to  mine."  And  she  moved 
toward  the  entrance  to  the  drawing-room,  I  fol 
lowing  her.  We  stood  in  silence  at  the  front 
doorway  waiting  for  my  carriage  to  come  up.  I 
v/atched  her — maddeningly  mistress  of  herself. 

"How  can  you  be  so  cold!"  I  cried.  "Don't 
you  see,  don't  you  feel,  how  I,  who  love  you,  suf 
fer?" 

Without  a  word  she  stretched  out  her  beauti 
ful,  white  hands,  long  and  narrow  and  capable. 
In  each  of  the  upturned  palms  were  four  deep  and 
bloody  prints  where  her  nails  had  been  crushing 
into  them. 


260  THE   PLUM   TREE 

Before  I  could  lift  my  eyes  to  her  face  she  was 
turning  to  rejoin  her  workmen.  As  I  stood  un 
certain,  dazed,  she  glanced  at  me  with  a  bright 
smile.  "Good-by  again,"  she  called.  "A  pleasant 
journey !" 

"Thank  you/'  I  replied.  "Good-by." 
Driving  toward  the  road  gates,  I  looked  at  the 
house  many  times,  from  window  to  window, 
everywhere.  Not  a  glimpse  of  her  until  I  was 
almost  at  the  road  again.  Then  I  saw  her  back — 
the  graceful  white  dress,  the  knot  of  blue-black 
hair,  the  big  white  hat,  and  she  directing  her 
workmen  with  her  closed  white  parasol. 


XXII 

MOSTLY   ABOUT    MONEY 

I  went  up  to  New  York,  to  find  confusion  and 
gloom  at  our  headquarters  there. 

Senator  Goodrich  had  subtly  given  the  im 
pression,  not  only  to  the  workers  but  also  to  the 
newspaper  men,  who  had  given  it  to  the  public, 
that  with  his  resignation  the  Burbank  campaign 
had  fallen  to  pieces.  "And  I  fear  you'll  have 
some  difficulty  in  getting  any  money  at  all  down 
town,"  said  Revell,  the  senior  Senator  from  New 
York  state,  who  envied  and  hated  Goodrich  and 
was  therefore,  if  not  for  personal  reasons,  amia 
bly  disposed  toward  me.  "They  don't  like  our 
candidate." 

"Naturally,"  said  I.  "That's  why  he's  run 
ning  and  that's  why  he  may  win." 

"Of  course,  he'll  carry  everything  here  in  the 

East.  The  only  doubt  was  in  this  state,  but  I  had 

no  difficulty  in  making  a  deal  with  the  opposition 

machine  as  soon  as  they  had  sounded  Scarborough 

261 


262  THE   PLUM   TREE 

and  had  found  that  if  he  should  win,  there' d  be 
nothing  in  it  for  them — nothing  but  trouble.  I 
judged  he  must  have  thrown  them  down  hard, 
from  their  being  so  sore.  How  do  things  look 
out  West?" 

"Bad,"  said  I.  "Our  farmers  and  workingmen 
have  had  lots  of  idle  time  these  last  four  years. 
They've  done  too  much  of  what  they  call  think- 
ing." 

"Then  you  need  money?"  asked  Revell,  length 
ening  his  sly,  smug  old  face. 

"We  must  have  four  millions,  at  least.  And 
we  must  get  it  from  those  people  down  town." 

He  shook  his  head. 

"I  think  not,"  was  my  careless  reply.  "When 
they  wake  up  to  the  danger  in  Scarborough's  elec 
tion,  the  danger  to  business,  especially  to  their 
sort  of  business,  they'll  give  me  twice  four  rail- 
lions  if  I  ask  it." 

"What  do  you  wish  me  to  do?" 

"Nothing,  except  look  after  these  eastern 
states.  We'll  take  care  of  the  West,  and  also  of 
raising  money  here  for  our  campaign  during  Oc 
tober  out  there." 


MOSTLY   ABOUT   MONEY  263 

"Can  I  be  of  any  service  to  you  in  introducing 
you  down  town  ?"  he  asked. 

"No,  thank  you/'  said  I.  "I  have  a  few  ac 
quaintances  there.  I'm  not  going  to  fry  any  fat 
this  trip.  My  fire  isn't  hot  enough  yet." 

And  I  did  not.  I  merely  called  on  two  of  the 
big  bankers  and  four  heads  of  industrial  combina 
tions  and  one  controller  of  an  ocean-to-ocean  rail 
way  system.  I  stayed  a  very  few  minutes  with 
each,  just  long  enough  to  set  him  thinking  and  in 
quiring  what  the  election  of  Scarborough  would 
mean  to  him  and  to  his  class  generally.  "If  you'll 
read  his  speeches,"  said  I  to  each,  "you'll  see  he 
intends  to  destroy  your  kind  of  business,  that  he 
regards  it  as  brigandage.  He's  honest,  afraid  of 
nothing,  and  an  able  lawyer,  and  he  can't  be  fooled 
or  fooled  with.  If  he's  elected  he'll  carry  out  his 
program,  Senate  or  no  Senate — and  no  matter 
what  scares  you  people  cook  up  in  the  stock  mar 
ket."  To  this  they  made  no  answer  beyond  deli 
cately  polite  insinuations  about  being  tired  of  pay 
ing  for  that  which  was  theirs  of  right.  I  did  not 
argue;  it  is  never  necessary  to  puncture  the  pre 
tenses  of  men  of  affairs  with  a  view  to  saving 


264  THE   PLUM   TREE 

them  from  falling  into  the  error  of  forgetting 
that  whatever  "right"  may  mean  on  Sunday,  on 
week  days  it  means  that  which  a  man  can  compel. 

I  returned  to  Fredonia  and  sent  Woodruff 
East  to  direct  a  campaign  of  calamity-howling  in 
the  eastern  press,  for  the  benefit  of  the  New  York, 
Boston  and  Philadelphia  "captains  of  industry." 
At  the  end  of  ten  days  I  recalled  him,  and  sent 
Roebuck  to  Wall  Street  to  confirm  the  fears  and 
alarms  Woodruff's  campaign  had  aroused.  And 
in  the  West  I  was  laying  out  the  money  I  had 
been  able  to  collect  from  the  leading  men  of  Min 
nesota,  Illinois,  Ohio  and  western  Pennsylvania 
— except  a  quarter  of  a  million  from  Howard  of 
New  York,  to  whom  we  gave  the  vice-presiden 
tial  nomination  for  that  sum,  and  about  half  a 
million  more  given  by  several  eastern  men,  to 
whom  we  promised  cabinet  offices  and  posts 
abroad.  I  put  all  this  money,  not  far  from  two 
millions,  into  our  "campaign  of  education"  and 
into  those  inpourings  of  delegations  upon  Bur- 
bank  at  his  "rural  retreat." 

To  attempt  to  combat  Scarborough's  popularity 
with  the  rank  and  file  of  his  own  party,  was  hope- 


MOSTLY   ABOUT   MONEY  265 

less.  I  contented  myself  with  restoring  order  and 
arousing  enthusiasm  in  the  main  body  of  our  par- 
tizans  in  the  doubtful  and  uneasy  states.  So 
ruinous  had  been  Goodrich's  management  that 
even  at  that  comparatively  simple  task  we  should 
not  have  succeeded  but  for  the  fortunate  fact  that 
the  great  mass  of  partizans  refuses  to  hear  any 
thing  from  the  other  side;  they  regard  reasoning 
as  disloyalty — which,  curiously  enough,  it  so 
often  is.  Then,  too,  few  newspapers  in  the  doubt 
ful  states  printed  the  truth  about  what  Scarbor 
ough  and  his  supporters  were  saying  and  doing. 
The  cost  of  this  perversion  of  publicity  to  us — 
direct  money  cost,  I  mean — was  almost  nothing. 
The  big  papers  and  news  associations  were  big 
properties,  and  their  rich  proprietors  were  inter 
ested  in  enterprises  to  which  Scarborough's  elec 
tion  meant  disaster;  a  multitude  of  the  smaller 
papers,  normally  of  the  opposition,  were  depend 
ent  upon  those  same  enterprises  for  the  advertis 
ing  that  kept  them  alive. 

Perhaps  the  most  far-sighted — certainly,  as  the 
event  showed,  the  most  fortunate — single  stroke 
of  my  campaign  was  done  in  Illinois.  That  state 


266  THE   PLUM   TREE 

was  vital  to  our  success;  also  it  was  one  of  the 
doubtful  states  where,  next  to  his  own  Indiana, 
Scarborough's  chances  were  best.  I  felt  that  we 
must  put  a  heavy  handicap  on  his  popularity  there. 
I  had  noticed  that  in  Illinois  the  violently  radical 
wring  of  the  opposition  was  very  strong.  So  I 
sent  Merriweather  to  strengthen  the  radicals  still 
further.  I  hoped  to  make  them  strong  enough  to 
put  through  their  party's  state  convention  a  plat 
form  that  would  be  a  scarecrow  to  timid  voters 
in  Illinois  and  throughout  the  West ;  and  I  wished 
for  a  "wild  man"  as  the  candidate  for  governor, 
but  I  didn't  hope  it,  though  I  told  Merriweather 
it  must  be  done.  Curiously  enough,  my  calcula 
tion  of  the  probabilities  was  just  reversed.  The 
radicals  were  beaten  on  platform;  but,  thanks  to 
a  desperate  effort  of  Merriweather's  in  "coax 
ing"  rural  delegates,  a  frothing,  wild-eyed,  po 
litical  crank  got  the  nomination.  And  he  never 
spoke  during  the  campaign  that  he  didn't  drive 
voters  away  from  his  ticket — and,  therefore, 
from  Scarborough.  And  our  machine  there  sacri 
ficed  the  local  interests  to  the  general  by  nominat 
ing  a  popular  and  not  insincere  reformer. 


MOSTLY   ABOUT    MONEY  267 

When  Roebuck  and  I  descended  upon  Wall 
Street  on  October  sixteenth,  three  weeks  before 
election,  I  had  everything  in  readiness  for  my  final 
and  real  campaign. 

Throughout  the  doubtful  states,  Woodruff  was 
in  touch  with  local  machine  leaders  of  Scarbor 
ough's  party,  with  corruptible  labor  and  fraternal 
order  leaders,  with  every  element  that  would  for 
a  cash  price  deliver  a  body  of  voters  on  election 
day.  Also  he  had  arranged  in  those  states  for  the 
"right  sort"  of  election  officers  at  upward  of  five 
hundred  polling  places,  at  least  half  of  them 
places  where  several  hundred  votes  could  be 
shifted  without  danger  or  suspicion.  Also,  Bur- 
bank  and  our  corps  of  "spellbinders"  had  suc 
ceeded  beyond  my  hopes  in  rousing  partizan  pas 
sion — but  here  again  part  of  the  credit  belongs  to 
Woodruff.  Never  before  had  there  been  so  many 
free  barbecues,  distributions  of  free  uniforms  to 
well-financed  Burbank  and  Howard  Campaign 
Clubs,  and  arrangings  of  those  expensive  parades 
in  which  the  average  citizen  delights.  The  wise 
Woodruff  spent  nearly  one-third  of  my  "educa 
tion"  money  in  this  way. 


268  THE   PLUM   TREE 

One  morning  I  found  him  laughing  over  the 
bill  for  a  grand  Burbank  rally  at  Indianapolis — 
about  thirty-five  thousand  dollars,  as  I  remem 
ber  the  figures. 

"What  amuses  you?"  said  I. 

"I  was  thinking  what  fools  the  people  are, 
never  to  ask  themselves  where  all  the  money  for 
these  free  shows  comes  from,  and  why  those  who 
give  are  willing  to  give  so  much,  and  how  they 
get  it  back.  What  an  ass  the  public  is !" 

"Fortunately,"  said  I. 

"For  us,"  said  he. 

"And  for  itself,"  I  rejoined. 

"Perhaps,"  he  admitted.  "It  was  born  to  be 
plucked,  and  I  suppose  our  crowd  does  do  the 
plucking  more  scientifically  than  less  experienced 
hands  would." 

"I  prefer  to  put  it  another  way,"  said  I.  "Let's 
say  that  we  save  it  from  a  worse  plucking." 

"That  is  better,"  said  Doc.  For,  on  his  way 
up  in  the  world,  he  was  rapidly  developing  what 
could,  and  should,  be  called  conscience. 

I  looked  at  him  and  once  more  had  a  qualm 
like  shame  before  his  moral  superiority  to  me. 


MOSTLY   ABOUT   MONEY  269 

We  were  plodding  along  on  about  the  same  moral 
level ;  but  he  had  ascended  to  that  level,  while  I  had 
descended  to  it.  There  were  politicians  posing  as 
pure  before  the  world  and  even  in  the  party's  be- 
hind-the-scene,  who  would  have  sneered  at  Doc's 
"conscience."  Yet,  to  my  notion,  they,  who 
started  high  and  from  whatever  sophistry  of 
motive  trailed  down  into  the  mire,  are  lower  far 
than  they  who  began  deep  in  the  mire  and  have 
been  struggling  bravely  toward  the  surface.  I 
know  a  man  who  was  born  in  the  slums,  was  a 
pickpocket  at  eight  years  of  age,  was  a  boss  at 
forty-five,  administering  justice  according  to  his 
lights.  I  know  a  man  who  was  born  what  he  calls 
a  gentleman  and  who,  at  forty-five,  sold  himself 
for  the  "honors"  of  a  high  office.  And  once,  after 
he  had  shaken  hands  with  that  boss,  he  looked  at 
me,  furtively  made  a  wry  face,  and  wiped  his 
hand  with  his  pocket  handkerchief ! 

The  other  part  of  our  work  of  preparation — 
getting  the  Wall  Street  whales  in  condition  for 
the  "fat-frying" — was  also  finished.  The  Wall 
Street  Roebuck  and  I  adventured  was  in  a  state 
of  quake  from  fear  of  the  election  of  "the  scourge 


270  THE   PLUM   TREE 

of  God,"  as  our  subsidized  socialist  and  extreme 
radical  papers  had  dubbed  Scarborough — and 
what  invaluable  campaign  material  their  praise 
of  him  did  make  for  us ! 

Roebuck  and  I  went  from  office  to  office  among 
the  great  of  commerce,  industry  and  finance.  We 
were  received  with  politeness,  deferential  polite 
ness,  everywhere.  But  not  a  penny  could  we  get. 
Everywhere  the  same  answer :  "We  can  not  see 
our  way  to  contributing  just  yet.  But  if  you  will 
call  early  next  week — say  Monday  or  Tuesday — " 
four  or  five  days  away — "we'll  let  you  know  what 
we  can  do."  The  most  ardent  eagerness  to 
placate  us,  to  keep  us  in  good  humor;  but  not  a 
cent — until  Monday  or  Tuesday. 

When  I  heard  "Monday  or  Tuesday"  for  the 
third  time,  my  suspicions  were  rousing.  When  I 
heard  it  for  the  fifth  time,  I  understood.  Wall 
Street  was  negotiating  with  the  other  side,  and 
would  know  the  result  by  Monday,  or  at  the  latest 
Tuesday. 


XXIII 

IN  WHICH  A  MOUSE  HELPS  A  LION 

I  did  not  dare  communicate  my  suspicions  to 
my  "dear  friend"  Roebuck.  As  it  was,  with  each 
refusal  I  had  seen  his  confidence  in  me  sink ;  if  he 
should  get  an  inkling  how  near  to  utter  disaster 
I  and  my  candidate  were,  he  would  be  upon  me 
like  a  tiger  upon  its  trainer  when  he  slips.  I  rea 
soned  out  my  course  while  we  were  descending 
from  the  fifth  "king's"  office  to  our  cab :  If  the 
negotiations  with  the  opposition  should  be  success 
ful,  I  should  not  get  a  cent;  if  they  should  fail, 
Wall  Street  would  be  frantic  to  get  its  contribu 
tions  into  my  hand ;  therefore,  the  only  sane  thing 
to  do  was  to  go  West,  and  make  such  preparations 
as  I  could  against  the  worst. 

"Let's  go  back  to  the  Holland,"  said  I  to  Roe 
buck,  in  a  weary,  bored  tone.  "These  people  are 
a  waste  of  time.  I'll  start  home  to-night,  and 
when  they  see  in  the  morning  papers  that  I've  left 
for  good,  they  may  come  to  their  senses.  But 
271 


272  THE   PLUM   TREE 

they'll  have  to  hunt  me  out.  I'll  not  go  near  them 
again.  And  when  they  come  dragging  them 
selves  to  you,  don't  forget  how  they've  treated  us 
to-day." 

Roebuck  was  silent,  glancing  furtively  at  me 
now  and  then,  not  knowing  what  to  think.  "How 
is  it  possible  to  win  without  them  ?"  he  finally  said. 
"This  demagogue  Scarborough  has  set  the  people 
crazy.  I  can't  imagine  what  possesses  these  men 
of  property  with  interests  throughout  the  country. 
They  are  inviting  ruin." 

I  smiled.  "My  dear  Roebuck,"  I  replied,  "do 
you  suppose  I'm  the  man  to  put  all  my  eggs  into 
one  basket — and  that  basket  Wall  Street?" 

And  I  refused  to  talk  any  more  politics  with 
him.  We  dined  together,  I  calm  and  in  the  best 
of  spirits;  we  went  to  a  musical  farce,  and  he 
watched  me  glumly  as  I  showed  my  lightness  of 
heart.  Then  I  went  alone,  at  midnight,  to  the 
Chicago  Express  sleeper — to  lie  awake  all  night 
staring  at  the  phantoms  of  ruin  that  moved  in  dire 
panorama  before  me.  In  every  great  affair  there 
is  a  crisis  at  which  one  must  stake  all  upon  a  sin 
gle  throw.  I  had  staked  all  upon  Wall  Street. 


IN  WHICH  A  MOUSE  HELPS  A  LION       273 

Without  its  contributions,  Woodruff's  arrange 
ments  could  not  be  carried  out. 

When  I  descended  at  the  Fredonia  station  I 
found  De  Milt  waiting-  for  me.  He  had  news 
that  was  indeed  news.  I  shall  give  it  here  more 
consecutively  than  my  impatience  for  the  event 
permitted  him  to  give  it  to  me. 

About  ten  days  before,  a  paragraph  in  one  of 
Burbank's  "pilgrimage"  speeches  had  been  twisted 
by  the  reporter  so  that  it  seemed  a  personal  attack 
upon  Scarborough.  As  Burbank  was  a  stickler 
for  the  etiquette  of  campaigning,  he  not  only  sent 
out  a  denial  and  a  correction  but  also  directed  De 
Milt  to  go  to  Scarborough's  home  at  Saint  X,  In 
diana,  and  convey  the  explanation  in  a  personal 
message.  De  Milt  arrived  at  Saint  X  at  eight  in 
the  evening.  As  he  was  leaving  the  parlor  car  he 
saw  a  man  emerge  from  its  drawing-room,  make 
a  hasty  descent  to  the  platform,  hurriedly  engage 
a  station  hack  and  drive  away.  De  Milt  had  an 
amazing  memory  for  identities — something  far 
rarer  than  memory  merely  for  faces.  He  was 
convinced  he  knew  that  man;  and  being  shrewd 


274  THE   PLUM   TREE 

and  quick  of  thought,  he  jumped  into  a  trap  and 
told  the  driver  to  follow  the  hack  which  was  just 
disappearing.  A  few  minutes'  driving  and  he 
saw  it  turn  in  at  a  gateway. 

"Whose  place  is  that?"  he  asked. 

'The  old  Gardiner  homestead,"  was  the 
answer.  "President  Scarborough  lives  there." 

De  Milt  did  not  discuss  this  rather  premature 
entitling  of  Senator  Scarborough.  He  said: 
"Oh — I've  made  a  mistake,"  descended  and  sent 
his  trap  away.  Scarborough's  house  was  quiet, 
not  a  soul  about,  lights  in  only  a  few  windows. 
De  Milt  strolled  in  at  the  open  gates  and,  keeping 
out  of  view,  made  a  detour  of  the  gardens,  the 
"lay"  of  which  he  could  see  by  the  starlight.  He 
was  soon  in  line  with  the  front  door — his  man  was 
parleying  with  a  servant.  "Evidently  he's  not 
expected,"  thought  my  chief  of  publicity. 

Soon  his  man  entered.  De  Milt,  keeping  in  the 
shadows,  moved  round  the  house  until  he  was 
close  under  open  windows  from  which  came  light 
and  men's  voices.  Peering  through  a  bush  he 
saw  at  a  table-desk  a  man  whom  he  recognized  as 
Senator  Scarborough.  Seated  opposite  him, 


IN  WHICH  A  MOUSE  HELPS  A  LION       275 

with  a  very  uneasy,  deprecating  expression  on  his 
face,  was  John  Thwing,  president  of  the  Atlantic 
and  Western  System,  and  Senator  Goodrich's 
brother-in-law. 

De  Milt  could  not  hear  what  Thwing  was  say 
ing,  so  careful  was  that  experienced  voice  to  reach 
only  the  ears  for  whom  its  insinuating  subtleties 
were  intended.  But  he  saw  a  puzzled  look  come 
into  Scarborough's  face,  heard  him  say :  "I  don't 
think  I  understand  you,  John." 

Thwing  unconsciously  raised  his  voice  in  his 
reply,  and  De  Milt  caught — "satisfactory  assur 
ances  from  you  that  these  alarming  views  and  in 
tentions  attributed  to  you  are  false,  and  they'll  be 
glad  to  exert  themselves  to  elect  you." 

Scarborough  smiled.  "Impossible,"  he  said. 
"Very  few  of  them  would  support  me  in  any  cir 
cumstances." 

"You  are  mistaken,  Hampden,"  was  Thwing's 
answer.  "On  the  contrary,  they  will- 
Scarborough  interrupted  with  an  impatient  mo 
tion  of  his  head.  "Impossible!"  he  repeated. 
"But  in  any  case,  why  should  they  send  you  to 
me  ?  My  speeches  speak  for  themselves.  Surely 


276  THE   PLUM   TREE 

no  intelligent  man  could  fancy  that  my  election 
would  mean  harm  to  any  legitimate  business, 
great  or  small,  East  or  West.  You've  known  me 
for  twenty  years,  Thwing.  You  needn't  come  to 
me  for  permission  to  reassure  your  friends — such 
of  them  as  you  can  honestly  reassure." 

"I  have  been  reassuring  them,"  Thwing  an 
swered.  "I  tell  them  that  you  are  about  the  last 
man  in  the  world  to  permit  mob  rule." 

"Precisely,"  said  Scarborough.  "I  purpose  to 
continue  to  do  what  I  can  to  break  up  the  mob 
that  is  being  led  on  by  demagogues  disguised  as 
captains  of  industry  and  advance  agents  of  pros 
perity — led  on  to  pillage  the  resources  of  the 
country,  its  riches  and  its  character." 

This  ought  to  have  put  Thwing  on  his  guard. 
But,  convinced  that  the  gods  he  worshiped  must 
be  the  gods  of  all  men,  whatever  they  might  pro 
fess,  he  held  to  his  purpose. 

"Still,  you  don't  quite  follow  me,"  he  persisted. 
"You've  said  some  very  disquieting  things 
against  some  of  my  friends — of  course,  they  un 
derstand  that  the  exigencies  of  campaigning,  the 
necessity  of  rousing  the  party  spirit,  th< 


IN  WHICH  A  MOUSE  PIELPS  A  LION       277 

Thwing  stopped  short ;  De  Milt  held  his  breath. 
Scarborough  was  leaning  forward,  was  holding 
Thwing's  eyes  with  one  of  those  looks  that  grip. 
"Do  you  mean,"  said  he,  "that,  if  I'll  assure  these 
friends  of  yours  that  I  don't  mean  what  I  say, 
they'll  buy  me  the  presidency?" 

"My  dear  Hampden,"  expostulated  Thwing, 
"nothing  of  the  sort.  Simply  that  the  campaign 
fund  which  Burbank  must  get  to  be  elected  won't 
go  to  him,  but  will  be  at  the  disposal  of  your  na 
tional  committee.  My  friends,  naturally,  won't 
support  their  enemies." 

De  Milt,  watching  Scarborough,  saw  him  lower 
his  head,  his  face  flushing  deeply. 

"Believe  me,  Hampden/'  continued  Thwing, 
"without  our  support  Burbank  is  beaten,  and  you 
are  triumphantly  elected — not  otherwise.  But 
you  know  politics ;  I  needn't  tell  you.  You  know 
that  the  presidency  depends  upon  getting  the 
doubtful  element  in  the  doubtful  states." 

Scarborough  stood,  and,  without  lifting  his 
eyes,  said  in  a  voice  very  different  from  his  strong, 
clear  tones  of  a  few  minutes  before :  "I  suppose 
in  this  day  no  one  is  beyond  the  reach  of  insult.  I 


278  THE   PLUM   TREE 

have  thought  I  was.  I  see  I  have  been  mistaken. 
And  it  is  a  man  who  has  known  me  twenty  years 
and  has  called  me  friend,  who  has  taught  me  the 
deep  meaning  of  the  word  shame.  The  servant 
will  show  you  the  door."  And  he  left  Thwing 
alone  in  the  room. 

I  had  made  De  Milt  give  me  the  point  of  his 
story  as  soon  as  I  saw  its  drift.  While  he  was 
going  over  it  in  detail,  I  was  thinking  out  all  the 
bearings  of  Scarborough's  refusal  upon  my  plans. 

"Has  Senator  Goodrich  seen  Governor  Bur- 
bank  yet?"  I  asked  De  Milt  in  a  casual  tone, 
when  he  had  told  how  he  escaped  unobserved  in 
Thwing's  wake  and  delivered  Burbank's  message 
the  next  morning. 

"I  believe  he's  to  see  him  by  appointment  to 
morrow,"  replied  De  Milt. 

So  my  suspicion  was  well-founded.  Goodrich, 
informed  of  his  brother-in-law's  failure,  was  post 
ing  to  make  peace  on  whatever  terms  he  could 
honeyfugle  out  of  my  conciliation-mad  candidate. 

A  few  minutes  later  I  shut  myself  in  with  the 
long-distance  telephone  and  roused  Burbank  from 
bed  and  from  sleep.  "I  am  coming  by  the  first 


IN  WHICH  A  MOUSE  HELPS  A  LION       279 

train  to-morrow,"  I  said.  "I  thought  you'd  be 
glad  to  know  that  I've  made  satisfactory  arrange 
ments  in  New  York — unexpectedly  satisfactory." 

"That's  good — excellent,"  came  the  reply.  I 
noted  an  instant  change  of  tone  which  told  me  that 
Burbank  had  got,  by  some  underground  route, 
news  of  my  failure  in  New  York  and  had  been 
preparing  to  give  Goodrich  a  cordial  reception. 

"If  Goodrich  comes,  James,"  I  went  on,  "don't 
see  him  till  I've  seen  you." 

A  pause,  then  in  a  strained  voice:  "But  I've 
given  him  an  appointment  at  nine  to-morrow." 

"Put  him  off  till  noon.  I'll  be  there  at  eleven. 
It's — imperative."  That  last  word  with  an  accent 
I  did  not  like  to  use,  but  knew  how  to  use — and 
when. 

Another  pause,  then:  "Very  well,  Harvey. 
But  we  must  be  careful  about  him.  De  Milt  has 
told  you  how  dangerous  he  is,  hasn't  he?" 

"Yes — how  dangerous  he  tried  to  be."  I  was 
about  to  add  that  Goodrich  was  a  fool  to  permit 
any  one  to  go  to  such  a  man  as  Scarborough  with 
such  a  proposition;  but  I  bethought  me  of  Bur- 
bank's  acute  moral  sensitiveness  and  how  it  would 


28o  THE   PLUM   TREE 

be  rasped  by  the  implication  of  his  opponent's 
moral  superiority.  "We're  past  the  last  danger, 
James.  That's  all.  Sleep  sound.  Good  night." 

"Good  night,  old  man,"  was  his  reply  in  his 
pose's  tone  for  affection.  But  I  could  imagine 
him  posing  there  in  his  night  shirt,  the  anger 
against  me  snapping  in  his  eyes. 

On  the  train  the  next  morning,  De  Milt,  who 
had  evidently  been  doing  a  little  thinking,  said, 
"I  hope  you  won't  let  it  out  to  Cousin  James  that 
I  told  you  Goodrich  was  coming  to  see  him." 

"Certainly  not,"  I  replied,  not  losing  the  oppor 
tunity  to  win  over  to  myself  one  so  near  to  my 
political  ward.  "I'm  deeply  obliged  to  you  for 
telling  me."  And  presently  I  went  on :  "By  the 
way,  has  anything  been  done  for  you  for  your  bril 
liant  work  at  Saint  X  ?" 

"Oh,  that's  all  right,"  he  said,  "I  guess  Cousin 
James'll  look  after  me — unless  he  forgets  about 
it."  "Cousin  James"  had  always  had  the  habit 
of  taking  favors  for  granted  unless  reward  was 
pressed  for ;  and  since  he  had  become  a  presiden 
tial  candidate,  he  was  inclining  more  than  ever  to 


IN  WHICH  A  MOUSE  HELPS  A  LION       281 

look  on  a  favor  done  him  as  a  high  privilege 
which  was  its  own  reward. 

I  made  no  immediate  reply  to  De  Milt;  but  just 
before  we  reached  the  capital,  I  gave  him  a  cheque 
for  five  thousand  dollars.  "A  little  expression  of 
gratitude  from  the  party/'  said  I.  "Your  reward 
will  come  later."  From  that  hour  he  was  mine, 
for  he  knew  now  by  personal  experience  that  "the 
boys"  were  right  in  calling  me  appreciative. 

It  is  better  to  ignore  a  debt  than  to  pay  with 
words. 


XXIV 

GRANBY   INTRUDES   AGAIN 

Burbank  had  grown  like  a  fungus  in  his  own 
esteem. 

The  adulation  of  the  free  excursionists  I  had 
poured  in  upon  him,  the  eulogies  in  the  newspa 
pers,  the  flatteries  of  those  about  him,  eager  to 
make  themselves  "solid"  with  the  man  who  might 
soon  have  the  shaking  of  the  huge,  richly  laden 
presidential  boughs  of  the  plum  tree — this  combi 
nation  of  assaults  upon  sanity  was  too  strong  for 
a  man  with  such  vanity  as  his,  a  traitor  within. 
He  had  convinced  his  last  prudent  doubt  that  he 
was  indeed  a  "child  of  destiny."  He  was  resent 
ful  lest  I  might  possibly  think  myself  more  im 
portant  than  he  to  the  success  of  the  campaign. 
And  his  resentment  was  deepened  by  the  probably 
incessant  reminders  of  his  common  sense  that  all 
this  vast  machine,  public  and  secret,  could  have 
been  set  in  motion  just  as  effectively  for  any  one 
282 


GRANBY   INTRUDES   AGAIN  283 

of  a  score  of  "statesmen"  conspicuous  in  the 
party. 

I  saw  through  his  labored  cordiality ;  and  it  de 
pressed  me  again — started  me  down  toward  those 
depths  of  self-condemnation  from  which  I  had 
been  held  up  for  a  few  days  by  the  excitement  of 
the  swiftly  thronging  events  and  by  the  necessity 
of  putting  my  whole  mind  upon  moves  for  my 
game. 

"I  am  heartily  glad  you  were  successful/'  he 
began  when  we  were  alone.  "That  takes  a  weight 
off  my  mind." 

"You  misunderstood  me,  I  see,"  said  I.  "I 
haven't  got  anything  from  those  people  in  New 
York  as  yet.  But  within  a  week  they'll  be  beg 
ging  me  to  take  whatever  I  need.  Thwing's  re 
port  will  put  them  in  a  panic." 

His  face  fell.  "Then  I  must  be  especially 
courteous  to  Goodrich,"  he  said,  after  thinking  in 
tently.  "Your  hopes  might  be  disappointed." 

"Not  the  slightest  danger,"  was  my  prompt  as 
surance.  "And  if  you  take  my  advice,  you  will 
ask  Goodrich  how  his  agent  found  Senator  Scar 
borough's  health,  and  then  order  him  out  of  this 


284  THE   PLUM   TREE 

house.  Why  harbor  a  deadly  snake  that  can  be 
of  no  use  to  you  ?" 

"But  you  seem  to  forget,  Harvey,  that  he  is  the 
master  of  at  least  the  eastern  wing  of  the  party. 
And  you  must  now  see  that  he  will  stop  at  noth 
ing,  unless  he  is  pacified." 

"He  is  the  fetch-and-carry  of  an  impudent  and 
cowardly  crowd  in  Wall  Street,"  I  retorted,  "that 
is  all.  When  they  find  he  can  no  longer  do  their 
errands,  they'll  throw  him  over  and  come  to  us. 
And  we  can  have  them  on  our  own  terms." 

We  argued,  with  growing  irritation  on  both 
sides,  and  after  an  hour  or  so,  I  saw  that  he  was 
hopelessly  under  the  spell  of  his  pettiness  and  his 
moral  cowardice.  He  had  convinced  himself  that 
I  was  jealous  of  Goodrich  and  would  sacrifice 
anything  to  gratify  my  hate.  And  Goodrich's 
sending  an  agent  to  Scarborough  had  only  made 
him  the  more  formidable  in  Burbank's  eyes.  As 
I  looked  in  upon  his  mind  and  watched  its  weak, 
foolish  little  workings,  my  irritation  subsided. 
"Do  as  you  think  best,"  said  I  wearily.  "But  when 
he  presents  the  mortgage  you  are  going  to  give 
him  on  your  presidency,  remember  my  warning." 


GRANBY   INTRUDES   AGAIN  285 

He  laughed  this  off,  feeling  my  point  only  in 
his  vanity,  not  at  all  in  his  judgment.  "And  how 
will  you  receive  him,  Harvey?  He  will  be  sure 
to  come  to  you  next — must,  as  you  are  in  charge 
of  my  campaign." 

"I'll  tell  him  straight  out  that  I'll  have  nothing 
to  do  with  him,"  said  I  blandly.  "The  Wall 
Street  submission  to  the  party  must  be  brought 
to  me  by  some  other  ambassador.  I'll  not  help 
him  to  fool  his  masters  and  to  hide  it  from  them 
that  he  has  lost  control." 

I  could  have  insisted,  could  have  destroyed 
Goodrich — forBurbank  would  not  have  dared  dis 
obey  me.  But  the  campaign,  politics  in  general, 
life  itself,  rilled  me  with  disgust,  a  paralyzing  dis 
gust  that  made  me  almost  lose  confidence  in  my 
theory  of  practical  life. 

"What's  the  use?"  I  said  to  myself.  "Let  Bur- 
bank  keep  his  adder.  Let  it  sting  him.  If  it  so 
much  as  shoots  a  fang  at  me,  I  can  crush  it." 

And  so,  Burbank  lifted  up  Goodrich  and  gave 
hostages  to  him;  and  Goodrich,  warned  that  I 
would  not  deal  with  him,  made  some  excuse  or 
other  to  his  masters  for  sending  Senator  Revell  to 


286  THE   PLUM   TREE 

me.  "See  Woodruff,"  said  I  to  Revell,  for  I  was 
in  no  mood  for  such  business.  "He  knows  best 
what  we  need." 

"They  give  up  too  damn  cheerfully,"  Woodruff 
said  to  me,  when  I  saw  him  a  week  or  ten  days 
later,  and  he  gave  me  an  account  of  the  negotia 
tions.  "I  suspect  they've  paid  more  before." 

"They  have,"  said  I.  "In  two  campaigns  where 
they  had  to  elect  against  hard  times." 

"But  I've  a  notion,"  he  warned  me,  "that  our 
candidate  has  promised  them  something  private- 

iy." 

"No  doubt,"  I  replied,  as  indifferently  as  I  felt. 

I  had  intended  to  make  some  speeches — I  had 
always  kept  the  public  side  of  my  career  in  the 
foreground,  and  in  this  campaign  my  enforced 
prominence  as  director  of  the  machine  was  caus 
ing  the  public  to  dwell  too  much  on  the  real  na 
ture  of  my  political  activity.  But  I  could  not 
bring  myself  to  it.  Instead,  I  set  out  for  home  to 
spend  the  time  with  my  children  and  to  do  by  tel 
ephone,  as  I  easily  could,  such  directing  of  Wood 
ruff  as  might  be  necessary. 

My  daughter  Frances  was  driving  me  from  the 


GRANBY   INTRUDES   AGAIN  287 

Fredonia  station.  A  man  darted  in  front  of  the 
horses,  flung  up  his  arms  and  began  to  shriek 
curses  at  me.  If  she  had  not  been  a  skilful  driver, 
we  should  both  have  been  thrown  from  the  cart. 
As  it  was,  the  horses  ran  several  miles  before  she 
got  them  under  control,  I  sitting  inactive,  because 
I  knew  how  it  would  hurt  her  pride  if  I  should  in 
terfere. 

When  the  horses  were  quiet,  she  gave  me  an 
impetuous  kiss  that  more  than  repaid  me  for  the 
strain  on  my  nerves.  "You  are  the  dearest  papa 
that  ever  was!"  she  said.  Then — "Who  was  he? 
He  looked  like  a  crazy  man !" 

"No  doubt  he  is,"  was  my  reply.  And  I  began 
complimenting  her  on  her  skill  with  horses, 
chiefly  to  prevent  her  pressing  me  about  the  man. 
I  had  heard,  and  had  done,  so  much  lying  that  I 
had  a  horror  of  it,  and  tried  to  make  my  children 
absolutely  truthful — my  boy  Ed  used  to  think  up 
and  do  mischief  just  for  the  pleasure  of  pleasing 
me  by  confessing.  To  make  my  example  effective, 
I  was  always  strictly  truthful  with  them.  I  did 
not  wish  to  tell  her  who  the  man  was ;  but  I  in 
stantly  recognized,  through  the  drunken  dis- 


288  THE    PLUM   TREE 

hevelment,  my  mutineer,  Granby — less  than  a 
year  before  one  of  the  magnates  of  the  state.  My 
orders  about  him  had  been  swiftly  and  literally 
obeyed.  Deserted  by  his  associates,  blacklisted  at 
the  banks,  beset  by  his  creditors,  harassed  by  the 
attorney  general,  his  assets  chained  with  injunc 
tions,  his  liabilities  given  triple  fangs,  he  went 
bankrupt,  took  to  drink,  became  a  sot  and  a  bar 
room  lounger.  His  dominant  passion  was  hatred 
of  me;  he  discharged  the  rambling  and  frantic 
story  of  his  wrongs  upon  whoever  would  listen. 
And  here  he  was  in  Fredonia ! 

I  had  one  of  my  secretaries  telephone  the  police 
to  look  after  him ;  they  reported  that  he  had  dis 
appeared. 

The  next  morning  but  one,  my  daughter  and  I 
went  for  an  early  walk.  At  the  turn  of  the  main 
drive  just  beyond  view  from  the  lodge,  she  ex 
claimed,  "Oh,  father,  ohl"  and  clung  to  me. 
Something — like  a  scarecrow,  but  not  a  scarecrow 
— swung  from  a  limb  overhanging  the  drive. 
The  face  was  distorted  and  swollen ;  the  arms  and 
legs  were  drawn  up  in  sickening  crookedness. 
Before  I  saw,  I  knew  it  was  Granby. 


GRANBY   INTRUDES   AGAIN  289 

I  took  Frances  home,  then  returned,  passing  the 
swaying  horror  far  on  the  other  side  of  the  road. 
I  got  the  lodge-keeper,  and  he  and  I  went  back  to 
gether.  I  had  them  telephone  from  the  lodge  for 
the  coroner  and  personally  saw  to  it  that  the 
corpse  should  be  reported  as  found  in  the  open 
woods  a  long  distance  from  my  place.  But  Gran- 
by  had  left  a  message  "to  the  public"  in  his  room 
at  the  hotel:  "Senator  Sayler  ruined  me  and 
drove  me  to  death.  I  have  gone  to  hang  myself 
in  his  park.  Down  with  monopoly !"  In  spite  of 
my  efforts,  this  was  published  throughout  the 
country — though  not  in  Fredonia.  Such  of  the 
big  opposition  papers  as  were  not  under  our  con 
trol  sent  reporters  and  raked  out  the  whole  story ; 
and  it  was  blown  up  hugely  and  told  everywhere. 
Our  organs  retold  it,  giving  the  true  color  and 
perspective;  but  my  blundering  attempt  to  avoid 
publicity  had  put  me  in  too  bad  a  light. 

It  was  the  irony  of  fate — my  power  thus  ludi 
crously  thwarted  by  a  triviality.  Within  twenty- 
four  hours  I  realized  the  danger  to  our  cam 
paign.  I  sent  Woodruff  post-haste  to  the  widow. 
He  gave  her  convincing  assurances  that  she  and 


290  THE   PLUM   TREE 

her  children  were  to  be  lifted  from  the  slough  of 
poverty  into  which  Granby's  drunkenness  had 
thrust  them.  And  in  return  she  wrote  at  his  dic 
tation  and  issued  an  apparently  uninspired  pub 
lic  statement,  exonerating  me  from  all  blame  for 
her  husband's  reverses,  and  saying  that  he  had 
been  acting  strangely  for  over  a  year  and  had 
been  insane  for  several  months.  In  brief,  I  did 
everything  suggested  by  sincere  regret  and  such 
skill  at  influencing  public  opinion  as  I  had  and 
commanded.  But  not  until  my  reports  began  to 
show  the  good  effects  of  the  million  dollars 
Woodruff  put  into  the  last  week  of  the  campaign, 
did  I  begin  to  hope  again. 

Another  hope  brightened  toward  confidence 
when,  on  the  Saturday  before  election,  I  sprung 
my  carefully  matured  scheme  for  stiffening  those 
of  our  partizans  who  were  wavering.  The  Scar 
borough  speakers  had,  with  powerful  effect,  been 
taunting  us  with  our  huge  campaign  fund,  dar 
ing  us  to  disclose  its  sources.  On  that  Sunday 
morning,  when  it  was  too  late  for  the  opposition 
to  discount  me,  I  boldly  threw  open  a  set  of  cam 
paign  ledgers  which  showed  that  our  fund  was 


GRANBY   INTRUDES   AGAIN  291 

just  under  a  million  dollars,  with  the  only  large 
subscription,  the  hundred  thousand  which  I  my 
self  had  given.  Tens  of  thousands  of  our  parti- 
zans,  longing  for  an  excuse  for  staying  with  us, 
returned  cheering  to  the  ranks — enough  of  them 
in  the  doubtful  states,  we  believed,  to  restore  the 
floating  vote  to  its  usual  balance  of  power. 

Each  horse  of  my  team  had  taken  a  turn  at  do 
ing  dangerous,  even  menacing,  threshing  about; 
but  both  were  now  quietly  pulling  in  the  harness, 
Partizanship  as  docile  as  Plutocracy.  The  betting 
odds  were  six  to  five  against  us,  but  we  of  the 
"inside"  began  to  plunge  on  Burbank  and  How 
ard. 


XXV 

AN    HOUR   OF   EMOTION 

It  was  after  midnight  of  election  day  before 
we  knew  the  result,  so  close  were  the  two  most 
important  doubtful  states. 

Scarborough  had  swept  the  rural  districts  and 
the  small  towns.  But  we  had  beaten  him  in  the 
cities  where  the  machines  and  other  purchasable 
organizations  were  powerful.  His  state  gave  him 
forty-two  thousand  plurality,  Burbank  carried 
his  own  state  by  less  than  ten  thousand — and  in 
twenty-four  years  our  majority  there  in  presiden 
tial  campaigns  had  never  before  been  less  than 
forty  thousand. 

By  half-past  one,  the  whole  capital  city  knew 
that  Burbank  had  won.  And  they  flocked  and 
swarmed  out  the  road  to  his  modest  "retreat," 
until  perhaps  thirty  thousand  people  were  shout 
ing,  blowing  horns,  singing,  sending  up  rockets 
and  Roman  candles,  burning  red  fire,  lighting 

bonfires  in  ^nd  near  the  grounds.    I  had  come 
292 


AN   HOUR   OF   EMOTION  293 

down  from  Fredonia  to  be  in  instant  touch  with 
Burbank  and  the  whole  national  machine,  should 
there  arise  at  the  last  minute  necessity  for  bold 
and  swift  action.  When  Burbank  finally  yielded 
to  the  mob  and  showed  himself  on  his  porch  with 
us,  his  immediate  associates,  about  him,  I  for  the 
first  time  unreservedly  admired  him.  For  the 
man  inside  seemed  at  last  to  swell  until  the  presi 
dential  pose  he  had  so  long  worn  prematurely  was 
filled  to  a  perfect  fit.  And  in  what  he  said  as  well 
as  in  the  way  he  said  it  there  was  an  unexpected 
dignity  and  breadth  and  force.  "I  have  made 
him  President,"  I  thought,  "and  it  looks  as  if  the 
presidency  had  made  him  a  man." 

After  he  finished,  Croffut  spoke,  and  Senator 
Berwick  of  Illinois.  Then  rose  a  few  calls  for  me. 
They  were  drowned  in  a  chorus  of  hoots,  toots  and 
hisses.  Burbank  cast  a  quick  glance  of  appre 
hension  at  me — again  that  hidden  conviction  of 
my  vanity,  this  time  shown  in  dread  lest  it  should 
goad  me  into  hating  him.  I  smiled  reassuringly  at 
him — and  I  can  say  in  all  honesty  that  the  smile 
came  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart.  An  hour 
later,  as  I  bade  him  good  night,  I  said : 


294  THE   PLUM   TREE 

"I  believe  the  man  and  the  opportunity  have 
met,  Mr.  President.  God  bless  you." 

Perhaps  it  was  the  unusualness  of  my  speaking 
with  feeling  that  caused  the  tears  to  start  in  his 
eyes.  "Thank  you,  Harvey,"  he  replied,  clasping 
my  hand  in  both  his.  "I  realize  now  the  grave  re 
sponsibility.  I  need  the  help  of  every  friend — the 
true  help  of  every  true  friend.  And  I  know  what 
I  owe  to  you  just  as  clearly  as  if  she  were  here  to 
remind  me." 

I  was  too  moved  to  venture  a  reply.  Woodruff 
and  I  drove  to  the  hotel  together — the  crowd 
hissing  me  wherever  it  recognized  me.  Woodruff 
looked  first  on  one  side  then  on  the  other,  mutter 
ing  at  them.  "The  fools !"  he  said  to  me,  with  his 
abrupt,  cool  laugh.  "Just  like  them,  isn't  it? 
Cheering  the  puppet,  hissing  its  proprietor." 

I  made  no  answer — what  did  it  matter?  Not 
for  Burbank's  position  and  opportunity,  as  in  that 
hour  of  emotion  they  appeared  even  to  us  who 
knew  politics  from  behind  the  scenes,  not  for  the 
reality  of  what  the  sounding  title  of  President 
seems  to  mean,  would  I  have  changed  with  him, 
would  I  have  paid  the  degrading  price  he  had 


"I    HAVE    MADE    HIM    PRESIDENT,"    I    THOUGHT,    "AND    IT    LOOKS   AS 
IF    THE    PRESIDENCY    HAD    MADE    HIM    A    MAN  "      /.   2QJ 


AN   HOUR   OF   EMOTION  295 

paid.  I  preferred  my  own  position — if  I  had 
bowed  the  knee,  at  least  it  was  not  to  men.  As  for 
hisses,  I  saw  in  them  a  certain  instinctive  tribute 
to  my  power.  The  mob  cheers  its  servant,  hisses 
its  master. 

"Doc,"  said  I,  "do  you  want  to  go  to  the  Sen 
ate  instead  of  Croffut?" 

By  the  flames  on  the  torches  on  either  side  I 
saw  his  amazement.  "Me  ?"  he  exclaimed.  "Why, 
you  forget  I've  got  a  past." 

"I  do,"  said  I,  "and  so  does  every  one  else. 
All  we  know  is  that  you've  got  a  future." 

He  drew  in  his  breath  hard  and  leaned  back 
into  the  corner  where  the  shadow  hid  him.  At  last 
he  said  in  a  quiet  earnest  voice:  "You've  given 
me  self-respect,  Senator.  I  can  only  say — I'll  see 
that  you  never  regret  it." 

I  was  hissed  roundly  at  the  hotel  entrance,  be 
tween  cheers  for  Croffut  and  Berwick,  and  even 
for  Woodruff.  But  I  went  to  bed  in  the  most 
cheerful,  hopeful  humor  I  had  known  since  the 
day  Scarborough  was  nominated.  "At  any  rate" 
— so  I  was  thinking — "my  President,  with  my 
help,  will  be  a  man." 


XXVI 

"ONLY  AN  OLD  JOKE" 

On  the  train  going  home,  I  was  nearer  to  castle- 
building  than  at  any  time  since  my  boyhood  cas 
tles  collapsed  under  the  rude  blows  of  practical 
life. 

My  paths  have  not  always  been  straight  and 
open,  said  I  to  myself;  like  all  others  who  have 
won  in  the  conditions  of  this  world  of  man  still 
thrall  to  the  brute,  I  have  had  to  use  the  code  of 
the  jungle.  In  climbing  I  have  had  to  stoop,  at 
times  to  crawl.  But,  now  that  I  have  reached  the 
top,  I  shall  stand  erect.  I  shall  show  that  the 
sordidness  of  the  struggle  has  not  unfitted  me  to 
use  the  victory.  True,  there  are  the  many  and 
heavy  political  debts  I've  had  to  contract  in  get 
ting  Burbank  the  presidency ;  and  as  we  must  have 
a  second  term  to  round  out  our  work,  we  shall  be 
compelled  to  make  some  further  compromises. 
We  must  still  deal  with  men  on  the  terms  which 
human  nature  exacts.  But  in  the  main  we  can 
296 


"ONLY   AN   OLD   JOKE"  297 

and  we  will  do  what  is  just  and  right,  what  helps 
to  realize  the  dreams  of  the  men  and  women  who 
founded  our  country — the  men  and  women  like 
my  father  and  mother. 

And  my  mother's  grave,  beside  my  father's 
and  among  the  graves  of  my  sisters  and  my 
grandparents,  rose  before  me.  And  I  recalled  the 
pledge  I  had  made  there,  in  the  boyish  beginnings 
of  my  manhood  and  my  career.  "My  chance  and 
Burbank's,"  said  I,  "comes  just  in  time.  We  are 
now  at  the  age  where  reputation  is  fixed;  and 
our  children  are  growing  up  and  will  soon  begin 
to  judge  us  and  be  judged  from  us." 

Years  of  patient  sowing,  thought  I,  and  at  last 
the  harvest !  And  what  a  harvest  it  will  be !  For 
under  the  teachings  of  experience  I  have  sown 
not  starlight  and  moonshine,  but  seeds. 

The  next  morning  I  could  not  rise;  it  was  six 
weeks  before  I  was  able  to  leave  my  bed.  During 
that  savage  illness  I  met  each  and  every  one  of 
the  reckless  drafts  I  had  been  drawing  against  my 
reserve  vitality.  Four  times  the  doctors  gave  me 
up;  once  even  Frances  lost  hope.  When  I  was 
getting  well  she  confessed  to  me  how  she  had 


298  THE   PLUM   TREE 

warned  God  that  He  need  never  expect  to  hear 
from  her  again  if  her  prayer  for  me  were  not  an 
swered — and  I  saw  she  rather  suspected  that  her 
threat  was  not  unassociated  with  my  recovery. 

Eight  weeks  out  of  touch  with  affairs,  and  they 
the  crucial  eight  weeks  of  all  my  years  of  thought 
and  action !  At  last  the  harvest,  indeed ;  and  I  was 
reaping  what  I  had  sown. 

In  the  second  week  of  January  I  revolted 
against  the  doctors  and  nurses  and  had  my  po 
litical  secretary,  Wheelock,  telephone  for  Wood 
ruff — the  legislature  had  elected  him  to  the  Sen 
ate  three  days  before.  When  he  had  sat  with  me 
long  enough  to  realize  that  I  could  bear  bad  news, 
he  said :  "Goodrich  and  Burbank  have  formed  a 
combination  against  you." 

"How  do  you  know?"  said  I,  showing  no  sur 
prise,  and  feeling  none. 

"Because" — he  laughed — "I  was  in  it.  At 
least,  they  thought  so  until  they  had  let  me  be 
safely  elected.  As  nearly  as  I  can  make  it  out, 
they  began  to  plot  about  ten  days  after  you  fell 
sick.  At  first  they  had  it  on  the  slate  to  do  me  up, 


"ONLY   AN   OLD   JOKE"  299 

too.  But — the  day  after  Christmas — Burbank 
sent  for  me — " 

"Wait  a  minute,"  I  interrupted.  And  I  began 
to  think.  It  was  on  Christmas  day  that  Burbank 
telephoned  for  the  first  time  in  nearly  three 
weeks,  inquiring-  about  my  condition.  I  remem 
bered  their  telling1  me  how  minute  his  question 
ings  were.  And  I  had  thought  his  solicitude  was 
proof  of  his  friendship !  Instead,  he  had  been  in 
quiring  to  make  sure  about  the  reports  in  the 
papers  that  I  was  certain  to  recover,  in  order  that 
he  might  shift  the  factors  in  his  plot  according 
ly.  "When  did  you  say  Burbank  sent  for  you?" 
I  asked. 

"On  Christmas  day,"  Woodruff  replied. 

I  laughed ;  he  looked  at  me  inquiringly.  "Noth 
ing,"  said  I.  "Only  an  old  joke — as  old  as  human 
nature.  Go  on." 

"Christmas  day,"  he  continued;  "I  didn't  get 
to  him  until  next  morning.  I  can't  figure  out  just 
why  they  invited  me  into  their  combine." 

But  I  could  figure  it  out,  easily.  If  I  had  died, 
my  power  would  have  disintegrated  and  Wood 
ruff  would  have  been  of  no  use  to  them.  When 


300  THE   PLUM   TREE 

they  were  sure  I  was  going  to  live,  they  had  to 
have  him  because  he  might  be  able  to  assassinate 
me,  certainly  could  so  cripple  me  that  I  would — 
as  they  reasoned — be  helpless  under  their  assaults. 
But  it  wasn't  necessary  to  tell  Woodruff  this,  I 
thought. 

"Well,"  said  I,  "and  what  happened?" 

"Burbank  gave  me  a  dose  of  his  'great  and  gra 
cious  way' — you  ought  to  see  the  'side'  he  puts  on 
now ! — and  turned  me  over  to  Goodrich.  He  had 
been  mighty  careful  not  to  give  himself  away  any 
further  than  that.  Then  Goodrich  talked  to  me 
for  three  solid  hours,  showing  me  it  was  my  duty 
to  the  party  as  well  as  to  myself  to  join  him  and 
Burbank  in  eliminating  the  one  disturber  of  har 
mony — that  meant  you." 

"And  didn't  they  tell  you  they'd  destroy  you  if 
you  didn't?" 

"Oh,  that  of  course,"  he  answered  indifferently. 

"Well,  what  did  you  do?" 

"Played  with  'em  till  I  was  elected.  Then  I 
dropped  Goodrich  a  line.  'You  can  go  to  hell,'  I 
wrote.  'I  travel  only  with  men'." 

"Very  imprudent,"  was  my  comment. 


''ONLY  AN   OLD  JOKE"  301 

"Yes,"  he  admitted,  "but  I  had  to  'do  something 
to  get  the  dirt  off  my  hands." 

"So  Burbank  has  gone  over  to  Goodrich!"  I 
went  on  presently,  as  much  to  myself  as  to  him. 

"I  always  knew  he  was  one  of  those  chaps 
you  have  to  keep  scared  to  keep  straight," 
said  Woodruff.  "They  think  your  politeness  in 
dicates  fear  and  your  friendship  fright.  Besides, 
he's  got  a  delusion  that  his  popularity  carried  the 
West  for  him  and  that  you  and  I  did  him  only 
damage."  Woodruff  interrupted  himself  to  laugh. 
"A  friend  of  mine,"  he  resumed,  "was  on  the 
train  with  Scarborough  when  he  went  East  to  the 
meeting  of  Congress  last  month.  He  tells  me  it 
was  like  a  President-elect  on  the  way  to  be  in 
augurated.  The  people  turned  out  at  every  cross 
roads,  even  beyond  the  Alleghanies.  And  Bur- 
bank  knows  it.  If  he  wasn't  clean  daft  about  him 
self  he'd  realize  that  if  it  hadn't  been  for  you — 
well,  I'd  hate  to  say  how  badly  he'd  have  got 
left.  But  then,  if  it  hadn't  been  for  you,  he'd  never 
have  been  governor.  He  was  a  dead  one,  and  you 
hauled  him  out  of  the  tomb." 

True  enough.  But  what  did  it  matter  now  ? 


302  THE   PLUM   TREE 

"He's  going  to  get  a  horrible  jolt  before  many 
months,"  Woodruff  went  on.  "I  can  see  you  after 
him." 

"You  forget.  He's  President,"  I  answered. 
"He's  beyond  our  reach." 

"Not  when  he  wants  a  renomination,"  insisted 
Woodruff. 

"He  can  get  that  without  us — if"  I  said.  "You 
must  remember  we've  made  him  a  fetish  with  our 
rank  and  file.  And  he's  something  of  a  fetish  with 
the  country,  now  that  he's  President.  No,  we 
can't  destroy  him — can't  even  injure  him.  He'll 
have  to  do  that  himself,  if  it's  done.  Besides — " 

I  did  not  finish.  I  did  not  care  to  confess  that 
since  Frances  and  I  saw  Granby  swinging  from 
that  tree  in  my  grounds  I  had  neither  heart  nor 
stomach  for  the  relentless  side  of  the  game.  In 
deed,  whether  from  calculation  or  from  sentimen 
tality  or  from  both — or,  from  a  certain  sympathy 
and  fellow  feeling  for  all  kinds  of  weakness — I 
have  never  pursued  those  who  have  played  me 
false,  except  when  exemplary  punishment  was  im 
perative. 

"Well—"  Woodrufi  looked  bitterly  disappoint- 


"ONLY   AN   OLD   JOKE"  303 

ed.  "I  guess  you're  right."  He  brightened.  "I 
forgot  Goodrich  for  a  minute.  Burbank'll  do  him 
self  up  through  that — I'd  have  to  be  in  a  saloon  to 
feel  free  to  use  the  language  that  describes  him." 

"I  fear  he  will,"  I  said.  And  it  was  not  a 
hypocrisy — for  I  did  not,  and  could  not,  feel  an 
ger  toward  him.  Had  I  not  cut  this  staff  deliber 
ately  because  it  was  crooked  ?  What  more  natural 
than  that  it  should  give  way  under  me  as  soon  as 
I  leaned  upon  it? 

"Your  sickness  certainly  couldn't  have  come  at 
an  unluckier  time,"  Woodruff  observed  just  be 
fore  he  left. 

"I'm  not  sure  of  that,"  was  my  reply.  "It 
would  have  been  useless  to  have  found  him  out 
sooner.  And  if  he  had  hidden  himself  until  later, 
he  might  have  done  us  some  serious  mischief." 

As  he  was  the  President-elect,  to  go  to  him  un 
invited  would  have  been  infringement  of  his  dig 
nity  as  well  as  of  my  pride.  A  few  days  later  I 
wrote  him,  thanking  him  for  his  messages  and 
inquiries  during  my  illness  and  saying  that  I  was 
once  more  taking  part  in  affairs.  He  did  not  re 
ply  by  calling  me  up  on  the  telephone,  as  he  would 


304  THE   PLUM   TREE 

have  done  in  the  cordial,  intimate  years  preceding 
his  grandeur.  Instead  he  sent  a  telegram  of  con 
gratulation,  following  it  with  a  note.  He  urged 
me  to  go  South,  as  I  had  planned,  and  to  stay  un 
til  I  was  fully  restored.  "I  shall  deny  myself  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  you  until  you  return."  That 
sentence  put  off  our  meeting  indefinitely — I  could 
see  him  smiling  at  its  adroitness  as  he  wrote  it. 

But  he  made  his  state  of  mind  even  clearer.  His 
custom  had  been  to  begin  his  notes  "Dear  Har 
vey,"  or  "Dear  Sayler,"  and  to  end  them  "James" 
or  "Burbank."  This  note  began  "My  dear  Sena 
tor"  ;  it  ended,  "Yours  sincerely,  James  E.  Bur- 
bank."  As  I  stared  at  these  phrases  my  blood 
steamed  in  my  brain.  Had  he  spat  in  my  face  my 
fury  would  have  been  less,  far  less.  "So!"  I 
thought  in  the  first  gush  of  anger,  "you  feel  that 
you  have  been  using  me,  that  you  have  no  further 
use  for  me.  You  have  decided  to  take  the  advice 
of  those  idiotic  independent  newspapers  and 
'wash  your  hands  of  the  corruptionist  who  al 
most  defeated  you'." 

To  make  war  upon  him  was  in  wisdom  impossi 
ble — even  had  I  wished.  And  when  anger  flowed 


"ONLY   AN   OLD   JOKE"  305 

away  and  pity  and  contempt  succeeded,  I  really 
did  not  wish  to  war  upon  him.  But  there  was 
Goodrich — the  real  corruptionist,  the  wrecker  of 
my  plans  and  hopes,  the  menace  to  the  future  of 
the  party.  I  sent  for  Woodruff  and  together  we 
mapped  out  a  campaign  against  the  senior  sen 
ator  from  New  Jersey  in  all  the  newspapers  we 
could  control  or  influence.  I  gave  him  a  free  hand 
to  use — with  his  unfailing  discretion,  of  course — 
all  the  facts  we  had  accumulated  to  Goodrich's 
discredit.  I  put  at  his  disposal  a  hundred  thou 
sand  dollars.  As  every  available  dollar  of  the 
party  funds  had  been  used  in  the  campaign,  I  ad 
vanced  this  money  from  my  own  pocket. 

And  I  went  cheerfully  away  to  Palm  Beach, 
there  to  watch  at  my  ease  the  rain  of  shot  and 
shell  upon  my  enemy. 


XXVII 

'A  DOMESTIC   DISCORD 

After  a  month  in  the  South,  I  was  well  again — 
younger  in  feeling,  and  in  looks,  than  I  had  been 
for  ten  years.  Carlotta  and  the  children,  except 
"Junior"  who  was  in  college,  had  gone  to  Wash 
ington  when  I  went  to  Florida.  I  found  her  abed 
with  a  nervous  attack  from  the  double  strain  of 
the  knowledge  that  Junior  had  eloped  with  an 
"impossible''  woman  he  had  met,  I  shall  not  say 
where,  and  of  the  effort  of  keeping  the  calamity 
from  me  until  she  was  sure  he  had  really  en 
tangled  himself  hopelessly. 

She  was  now  sitting  among  her  pillows,  telling 
the  whole  story.  "If  he  only  hadn't  married  her!" 
she  ended. 

This  struck  me  as  ludicrous — a  good  woman 
citing  to  her  son's  discredit  the  fact  that  he  had 
goodness'  own  ideals  of  honor. 

"What  are  you  laughing  at?"  she  demanded. 

I  was  about  to  tell  her  I  was  hopeful  of  the  boy 
306 


A  DOMESTIC   DISCORD  307 

chiefly  because  he  had  thus  shown  the  splendid 
courage  that  more  than  redeems  folly.  But  I  re 
frained.  I  had  never  been  able  to  make  Carlotta 
understand  me  or  my  ideas,  and  I  had  long  been 
weary  of  the  resentful  silences  or  angry  tirades 
which  mental  and  temperamental  misunderstand 
ings  produce. 

"Courage  never  gets  into  a  man  unless  it's  born 
there,"  said  I.  "Folly  is  born  into  us  all  and  can 
be  weeded  out." 

"What  can  be  expected  ?"  she  went  on  after  try 
ing  in  vain  to  connect  my  remark  with  our  conver 
sation.  "A  boy  needs  a  father.  You've  been  so 
busy  with  your  infamous  politics  that  youVe 
given  him  scarcely  a  thought." 

Painfully  true,  throughout;  but  it  was  one  of 
those  criticisms  we  can  hardly  endure  even  when 
we  make  it  upon  ourselves.  I  was  silent. 

"I've  no  patience  with  men!"  she  went  on. 
"They're  always  meddling  with  things  that 
would  get  along  better  without  them,  and  letting 
their  own  patch  run  to  weeds." 

Unanswerable.  I  held  my  peace. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  about  it,  Harvey? 


308  THE   PLUM   TREE 

How  can  you  be  so  calm?  Isn't  there  anything 
that  would  rouse  you  ?" 

"I'm  too  busy  thinking  what  to  do  to  waste  any 
energy  in  blowing  off  steam,"  was  my  answer  in 
my  conciliatory  tone. 

"But  there's  nothing  we  can  do,"  she  retorted, 
with  increasing  anger,  which  vented  itself  toward 
me  because  the  true  culprit,  fate,  was  not  within 
reach. 

"Precisely,"  I  agreed.  "Nothing." 

"That  creature  won't  let  him  come  to  see  me." 

"And  you  musn't  see  him  when  he  sends  for 
you,"  said  I.  "He'll  come  as  soon  as  his  money 
gives  out.  She'll  see  that  he  does." 

"But  you  aren't  going  to  cut  him  off !" 

"Just  that,"  said  I. 

A  long  silence,  then  I  added  in  answer  to  her 
expression :  "And  you  must  not  let  him  have  a 
cent,  either." 

In  a  gust  of  anger,  probably  at  my  having  read 
her  thoughts,  she  blurted  out :  "One  would  think 
it  was  your  money." 

I  had  seen  that  thought  in  her  eyes,  had  watched 
her  hold  it  back  behind  her  set  teeth,  many  times 


A   DOMESTIC   DISCORD  309 

in  our  married  years.  And  I  now  thanked  my 
stars  I  had  had  the  prudence  to  get  ready  for  the 
inevitable  moment  when  she  would  speak  it.  But 
at  the  same  time  I  could  not  restrain  a  flush  of 
shame.  "It  is  my  money,"  I  forced  myself  to  say. 
"Ask  your  brother.  He'll  tell  you  what  I've  for 
bidden  him  to  tell  before — that  I  have  twice  res 
cued  you  and  him  from  bankruptcy." 

"With  our  own  money,"  she  retorted,  hating 
herself  for  saying  it,  but  goaded  on  by  a  devil  that 
lived  in  her  temper  and  had  got  control  many  a 
time,  though  never  before  when  I  happened  to  be 
the  one  with  whom  she  was  at  outs. 

"No — with  my  own,"  I  replied  tranquilly. 

"Your  own!"  she  sneered.  "Every  dollar  you 
have  has  come  through  what  you  got  by  marrying 
me — through  what  you  married  me  for.  Where 
would  you  be  if  you  hadn't  married  me?  You 
know  very  well.  You'd  still  be  fighting  poverty  as 
a  small  lawyer  in  Pulaski,  married  to  Betty  Cros 
by  or  whatever  her  name  was."  And  she  burst 
into  hysterical  tears.  At  last  she  was  showing  me 
the  secrets  that  had  been  tearing  at  her,  was  show 
ing  me  her  heart  where  they  had  torn  it. 


310  THE   PLUM   TREE 

"Probably/'  said  I  in  my  usual  tone,  when  she 
was  calm  enough  to  hear  me.  "So,  that's  what 
you  brood  over  ?" 

"Yes,"  she  sobbed.  "I've  hated  you  and  my 
self.  Why  don't  you  tell  me  it  isn't  so?  I'll  be 
lieve  it — I  don't  want  to  hear  the  truth.  I  know 
you  don't  love  me,  Harvey.  But  just  say  you 
don't  love  her." 

"What  kind  of  middle-aged,  maudlin  moon 
shine  is  this,  anyway?"  said  I.  "Let's  go  back  to 
Junior.  .We've  passed  the  time  of  life  when  people 
can  talk  sentimentality  without  being  ridiculous." 

"That's  true  of  me,  Harvey,"  she  said  misera 
bly,  "but  not  of  you.  You  don't  look  a  day  over 
forty — you're  still  a  young  man,  while  I — " 

She  did  not  need  to  complete  the  sentence.  I 
sat  on  the  bed  beside  her  and  patted  her  vaguely. 
She  took  my  hand  and  kissed  it.  And  I  said — I 
tried  to  say  it  gently,  tenderly,  sincerely :  "People 
who've  been  together,  as  you  and  I  have,  see  each 
other  always  as  at  first,  they  say." 

She  kissed  my  hand  gratefully  again.  "For 
give  me  for  what  I  said,"  she  murmured.  "You 
know  I  didn't  think  it,  really,  I've  got  such  a 


A   DOMESTIC   DISCORD  311 

nasty  disposition  and  I  felt  so  down,  and — that 
was  the  only  thing  I  could  find  to  throw  at  you." 

"Please — please!"  I  protested.  "Forgive  isn't 
a  word  that  I'd  have  the  right  to  use  to  any  one." 

"But  I  must—" 

"Now,  I've  known  for  years/'  I  went  on,  "that 
you  were  in  love  with  that  other  man  when  I 
asked  you  to  marry  me.  I  might  have  taunted  you 
with  it,  might  have  told  you  how  I've  saved  him 
from  going  to  jail  for  passing  worthless  checks." 

This  delighted  her — this  jealousy  so  long  and 
so  carefully  hidden.  Under  cover  of  her  delight 
I  escaped  from  the  witness-stand.  And  the  dis 
covery  that  evening  by  Doc  Woodruff  that  my 
son's  ensnarer  had  a  husband  living  put  her  in 
high  good  humor.  "If  he'd  only  come  home," 
said  she,  adding :  "Though,  now  I  feel  that  he's 
perfectly  safe  with  her." 

"Yes — let  them  alone,"  I  replied.  "He  has  at 
least  one  kind  of  sense — a  sense  of  honor.  And 
I  suspect  and  hope  that  he  has  at  bottom  common 
sense  too.  Let  him  find  her  out  for  himself.  Then, 
he'll  be  done  with  her,  and  her  kind,  for  good." 

"I  must  marry  him  off  as  soon  as  possible/' 


3U  THE   PLUM   TREE 

said  Carlotta.  "I'll  look  about  for  some  nice,  quiet 
young  girl  with  character  and  looks  and  domestic 
tastes."  She  laughed  a  little  bitterly.  "You  men 
can  profit  by  experience  and  it  ruins  us  women." 

"Unjust,"  said  I,  "but  injustice  and  stupidity 
are  the  ground  plan  of  life." 

l  We  had  not  long  to  wait.  The  lady,  as  soon  as 
Junior  reached  the  end  of  his  cash,  tried  to  open 
negotiations.  Failing  and  becoming  convinced 
that  he  had  been  cast  off  by  his  parents,  she  threw 
aside  her  mask.  One  straight  look  into  her  real 
countenance  was  enough  for  the  boy.  He  fled 
shuddering — but  not  to  me  as  I  had  expected. 
Instead,  he  got  a  place  as  a  clerk  in  Chicago. 

"Why  not  let  him  shift  for  himself  a  while?" 
suggested  Woodruff,  who  couldn't  have  taken 
more  trouble  about  the  affair  if  the  boy  had  been 
his  own.  "A  man  never  knows  whether  his  feet 
were  made  to  stand  on  and  walk  with,  unless  he's 
been  down  to  his  uppers." 

"I  think  the  boy's  got  his  grandmother  in  him," 
said  I.  "Let's  give  him  a  chance." 

"He'll  make  a  career  for  himself  yet — like  his 
father's,"  said  Woodruff. 


A   DOMESTIC   DISCORD  313 

That,  with  the  sincerest  enthusiasm.  But  in 
stinctively  I  looked  at  him  for  signs  of  sarcasm. 
And  then  I  wondered  how  many  "successful" 
men  would,  in  the  same  circumstances,  have  had 
the  same  curiously  significant  instinct. 


XXVIII 

UNDER   A    CRAYON    PORTRAIT 

It  was  now  less  than  a  month  before  inaugura 
tion.  Daily  the  papers  gave  probable  selections 
for  the  high  posts  under  the  approaching  admin 
istration;  and,  while  many  of  them  were  attrib 
uted  to  my  influence,  Roebuck's  son  as  ambassa 
dor  to  Russia  was  the  only  one  I  even  approved  of. 
As  payments  for  the  services  of  the  plutocracy 
they  were  unnecessary  and  foolishly  lavish;  as 
preparations  for  a  renomination  and  reelection, 
the  two  guiding  factors  in  every  plan  of  a  Presi 
dent-elect,  they  were  preposterous.  They  were 
first  steps  toward  an  administration  that  would 
make  Scarborough's  triumph  inevitable,  in  spite 
of  his  handicap  of  idealism. 

I  sent  Woodruff  west  to  find  out  what  Bur- 
bank  was  doing  about  the  places  I  had  pledged — 
all  of  them  less  "honorable"  but  more  lucrative 
offices  which  party  workers  covet.  He  returned 
in  a  few  days  with  the  news  that,  according  to  the 
314 


UNDER  A   CRAYON   PORTRAIT  315 

best  information  he  could  get  through  his  spies  in 
Burbank's  entourage,  all  our  pledges  would  be 
broken;  the  Sayler-Burbank  machine  was  to  be 
made  over  into  a  Goodrich-Burbank. 

I  saw  that  I  could  not  much  longer  delay  ac 
tion.  But  I  resolved  to  put  it  off  until  the  very 
last  minute,  meanwhile  trying  to  force  Burbank 
to  send  for  me.  My  cannonade  upon  Goodrich  in 
six  thousand  newspapers,  great  and  small, 
throughout  the  West  and  South,  had  been  rein 
forced  by  the  bulk  of  the  opposition  press.  I  could 
not  believe  it  was  to  be  without  influence  upon 
the  timid  Burbank,  even  though  he  knew  who  was 
back  of  the  attack,  and  precisely  how  I  was  direct 
ing  it.  I  was  relying — as  I  afterward  learned,  not 
in  vain — upon  my  faithful  De  Milt  to  bring  to 
"Cousin  James' "  attention  the  outburst  of  pub 
lic  sentiment  against  his  guide,  philosopher  and 
friend,  the  Wall  Street  fetch-and-carry. 

I  had  fixed  on  February  fifteenth  as  the  date  on 
which  I  would  telegraph  a  formal  demand  for  an 
interview.  On  February  eleventh,  he  surren 
dered — he  wired,  asking  me  to  come.  I  took  a 
chance ;  I  wired  back  a  polite  request  to  be  excused 


316  THE   PLUM  TREE 

as  I  had  urgent  business  in  Chicago.  And 
twenty-four  hours  later  I  passed  within  thirty 
miles  of  Rivington  on  my  way  to  Chicago  with 
Carlotta — we  were  going  to  see  Junior,  hugely 
proud  of  himself  and  his  twenty-seven  dollars  a 
week.  At  the  Auditorium  a  telegram  waited 
from  Burbank :  He  hoped  I  would  come  as  soon 
as  I  could ;  the  matters  he  wished  to  discuss  were 
most  important. 

Toward  noon  of  the  third  day  thereafter  we 
were  greeting  each  other — he  with  an  attempt  at 
his  old-time  cordiality,  I  without  concealment  of 
at  least  the  coldness  I  felt.  But  my  manner  ap 
parently,  and  probably,  escaped  his  notice.  He 
was  now  blind  and  drunk  with  the  incense  that 
had  been  whirling  about  him  in  dense  clouds  for 
three  months;  he  was  incapable  of  doubting  the 
bliss  of  any  human  being  he  was  gracious  to.  He 
shut  me  in  with  him  and  began  confiding  the  plans 
he  and  Goodrich  had  made — cabinet  places,  for 
eign  posts,  and  so  forth.  His  voice,  lingering  and 
luxuriating  upon  the  titles — "my  ambassador  to 
his  Brittanic  Majesty,"  "my  ambassador  to  the 
German  Emperor,"  and  so  on — amused  and  a  lit- 


UNDER  A   CRAYON    PORTRAIT  317 

tie,  but  only  a  little,  astonished  me ;  I  had  always 
known  that  he  was  a  through-and-through  snob. 
For  nearly  an  hour  I  watched  his  ingenuous, 
childish  delight  in  bathing  himself  in  himself,  the 
wonderful  fountain  of  all  these  honors.  At  last 
he  finished,  laid  down  his  list,  took  off  his  nose- 
glasses.  "Well,  Harvey,  what  do  you  think?"  he 
asked,  and  waited  with  sparkling  eyes  for  my  en 
thusiastic  approval. 

"I  see  Goodrich  drove  a  hard  bargain,"  said  I. 
"Yet  he  came  on  his  knees,  if  you  had  but  realized 
it." 

Burbank's  color  mounted.  "What  do  you 
mean,  Sayler?"  he  inquired,  the  faint  beginnings 
of  the  insulted  god  in  his  tone  and  manner. 

"You  asked  my  opinion,"  I  answered,  "I'm  giv 
ing  it.  I  don't  recall  a  single  name  that  isn't  ob 
viously  a  Goodrich  suggestion.  Even  the  Roe 
buck  appointment — " 

"Sayler,"  he  interrupted,  in  a  forbearing  tone, 
"I  wish  you  would  not  remind  me  so  often  of  your 
prejudice  against  Senator  Goodrich.  It  is  un 
worthy  of  you.  But  for  my  tact — pardon  my 


318  THE   PLUM   TREE 

frankness — your  prejudice  would  have  driven  him 
away,  and  with  him  a  support  he  controls — " 

I  showed  my  amusement. 

"Don't  smile,  Sayler,"  he  protested  with  some 
anger  in  his  smooth,  heavy  voice.  "You  are  not 
the  only  strong  man  in  the  party.  And  I  venture 
to  take  advantage  of  our  long  friendship  to  speak 
plainly  to  you.  I  wish  to  see  a  united  party.  One 
of  my  reasons  for  sending  for  you  was  to  tell  you 
how  greatly  I  am  distressed  and  chagrined  by  the 
attacks  on  Senator  Goodrich  in  our  papers." 

"Did  you  have  any  other  reason  for  sending  for 
me?'*  said  I  very  quietly. 

"That  was  the  principal  one,"  he  confessed. 

"Oh!"  I  exclaimed. 

"What  do  you  mean,  Sayler?" 

"I  thought  possibly  you  might  also  have  wished 
to  tell  me  how  unjust  you  thought  the  attacks  on 
me  in  the  eastern  papers,  and  to  assure  me  that 
they  had  only  strengthened  our  friendship." 

He  was  silent. 

I  rose,  threw  my  overcoat  on  my  arm,  took  up 
my  hat. 

"Wait  a  moment,  please,"  he  said.     "I  have  al- 


UNDER   A   CRAYON    PORTRAIT  319 

ways  found  you  very  impartial  in  your  judgments 
— your  clear  judgment  has  been  of  the  highest 
usefulness  to  me  many  times." 

"Thank  you,"  I  said.  "You  are  most  kind — 
most  generous." 

"So,"  he  went  on,  not  dreaming  that  he  might 
find  sarcasm  if  he  searched  for  it,  "I  hope  you 
appreciate  why  I  have  refrained  from  seeing  you, 
as  I  wished.  I  know,  Sayler,  your  friendship  was 
loyal.  I  know  you  did  during-  the  campaign  what 
you  thought  wisest  and  best.  But  I  feel  that  you 
must  see  now  what  a  grave  mistake  you  made. 
Don't  misunderstand  me,  Harvey.  I  do  not  hold 
it  against  you.  But  you  must  see,  no  doubt  you 
do  see,  that  it  would  not  be  fair  for  me,  it  would 
not  be  in  keeping  with  the  dignity  of  the  great 
office  with  which  the  people  have  intrusted  me,  to 
seem  to  lend  my  approval." 

I  looked  straight  at  him  until  his  gaze  fell. 
Then  I  said,  my  voice  even  lower  than  usual :  "If 
you  will  look  at  the  election  figures  carefully  you 
will  find  written  upon  them  a  very  interesting  fact. 
That  fact  is :  In  all  the  doubtful  states — the  ones 
that  elected  you — Scarborough  swept  everything 


320  ,THE   PLUM   TREE 

where  our  party  has  heretofore  been  strongest; 
you  were  elected  by  carrying  districts  where  our 
party  has  always  been  weakest.  And  in  those 
districts,  James.,  our  money  was  spent — as  you 
well  know." 

I  waited  for  this  to  cut  through  his  enswad- 
dlings  of  self-complacence,  waited  until  I  saw  its 
acid  eating  into  him.  Then  I  went  on :  "I  hope 
you  will  never  again  deceive  yourself,  or  let  your 
enemies  deceive  you.  As  to  your  plans — the  plans 
for  Goodrich  and  his  crowd — I  have  nothing  to 
say.  My  only  concern  is  to  have  Woodruff's  mat 
ters — his  pledges — attended  to.  That  I  must  in 
sist  upon." 

He  lowered  his  brows  in  a  heavy  frown. 

"I  have  your  assent  ?"  I  insisted. 

"Really,  Harvey/' — there  was  an  astonish 
ing  change  from  the  complacent,  superior  voice  of 
a  few  minutes  before, — "I'll  do  what  I  can — but 
— the  responsibilities — the  duties  of — of  my  po 
sition—'' 

"You  are  going  to  take  the  office,  James,"  said 
I.  "You  can't  cheat  the  men  who  gave  it  to  you." 

He  did  not  answer. 


UNDER   A   CRAYON    PORTRAIT  321 

"I  pledged  my  word,"  I  went  on.  "You  gave 
the  promises.  I  indorsed  for  you.  The  debts 
must  be  met."  Never  before  had  I  enjoyed  using 
that  ugliest  of  words. 

"You  ask  me  to  bring  myself  into  unpopularity 
with  the  entire  country,"  he  pleaded.  "Several  of 
the  men  on  your  list  are  ex-convicts.  Others  are/ 

about  to  be  indicted  for  election  frauds.     Many) 

i  ^~* 

Are  men  utterly  without  character — " 

"They  did  your  work,  James,"  said  I.  "I  guar 
antee  that  in  no  case  will  the  unpleasant  conse 
quences  to  you  be  more  than  a  few  disagreeable 
but  soon  forgotten  newspaper  articles.  You  hag 
gle  over  these  trifles,  and — why,  look  at  your 
cabinet  list !  There  are  two  names  on  it — two  of 
the  four  Goodrich  men — that  will  cost  you  blasts 
of  public  anger — perhaps  the  renomination." 

"Is  this  my  friend  Harvey  Sayler?"  he  ex 
claimed,  grief  and  pain  in  that  face  which  had 
been  used  by  him  for  thirty  years  as  the  sculptor 
uses  the  molding  clay. 

"It  is,"  I  answered  calmly.  "And  never  more 
your  friend  than  now,  when  you  have  ceased  to  be 
a  friend  to  him — and  to  yourself." 


322  THE   PLUM   TREE 

"Then  do  not  ask  me  to  share  the  infamy  of 
those  wretches/'  he  pleaded. 

"They  are  our  allies  and  helpers/'  I  said, 
"wretches  only  as  I  and  all  of  us  in  practical  poli 
tics  are  wretches.  Difference  of  degree,  perhaps ; 
but  not  of  kind.  And,  James,  if  our  promises  to 
these  invaluable  fellow  workers  of  ours  are  not 
kept,  kept  to  the  uttermost,  you  will  compel  me 
and  my  group  of  Senators  to  oppose  and  defeat 
your  most  important  nominations.  And  I  shall 
myself,  publicly,  from  the  floor  of  the  Senate, 
show  up  these  Goodrich  nominees  of  yours  as 
creatures  of  corrupt  corporations  and  monopo 
lies."  I  said  this  without  heat ;  every  word  of  it 
fell  cold  as  arctic  ice  upon  his  passion. 

A  long  pause,  then :  "Your  promises  shall  be 
kept/'  he  assented  with  great  dignity  of  manner ; 
"not  because  you  threaten,  Harvey,  but  because 
I  value  your  friendship  beyond  anything  and 
everything.  And  I  may  add  I  am  sorry,  pro 
foundly  sorry,  my  selections  for  the  important 
places  do  not  please  you." 

"I  think  of  your  future,"  I  said.  "You  talk  of 
friendship — " 


UNDER  A   CRAYON    PORTRAIT  323 

"No,  no,  Harvey,"  he  protested,  with  a  vehe 
mence  of  reassurance  that  struck  me  as  amusing. 

"And,"  I  went  on,  "it  is  in  friendship,  James, 
that  I  warn  you  not  to  fill  all  your  crucial  places 
with  creatures  of  the  Goodrich  crowd.  They  will 
rule  your  administration,  they  will  drive  you,  in 
spite  of  yourself,  on  and  on,  from  excess  to  ex 
cess.  You  will  put  the  middle  West  irrevocably 
against  you.  You  will  make  even  the  East  doubt 
ful.  You  are  paying,  paying  with  your  whole 
future,  for  that  which  is  already  yours.  If  you 
lose  your  hold  on  the  people,  the  money-crowd 
will  have  none  of  you.  If  you  keep  the  people, 
the  money-crowd  will  be  your  very  humble  ser 
vant." 

I  happened  just  then  to  glance  past  him  at  a 
picture  on  the  wall  over  his  chair.  It  was  a  crayon 
portrait  of  his  wife,  made  from  an  enlarged  photo 
graph — a  poor  piece  of  work,  almost  ludicrous  in 
its  distortions  of  proportion  and  perspective.  But 
it  touched  me  the  more  because  it  was  such  a  hum 
ble  thing,  reminiscent  of  her  and  his  and  my  lowly 
beginnings.  And  an  appeal  seemed  to  go  straight 
to  my  heart  from  those  eyes  that  had  so  often 


324  THE   PLUM   TREE 

been  raised  from  the  sewing  in  sympathetic  un 
derstanding  of  the  things  I  was  struggling  to 
make  her  husband  see. 

I  pointed  to  the  picture ;  he  slowly  turned  round 
in  his  chair  until  he  too  was  looking  at  it.  "What 
would  she  say,  Burbank,"  I  asked,  "if  she  were 
with  us  now  ?" 

And  then  I  went  on  to  analyze  his  outlined  ad 
ministration,  to  show  him  in  detail  why  I  thought 
it  would  ruin  him,  to  suggest  men  who  were  as 
good  party  men  as  the  Goodrich  crowd  and  would 
be  a  credit  to  him  and  a  help.  And  he  listened 
with  his  old-time  expression,  looking  up  at  his 
dead  wife's  picture  all  the  while.  "You  must  be 
popular,  at  any  cost,"  I  ended.  "The  industrial 
crowd  will  stay  with  the  party,  no  matter  what  we 
do.  As  long  as  Scarborough  is  in  control  on  the 
other  side,  we  are  their  only  hope.  And  so,  we 
are  free  to  seek  popularity — and  we  must  regain 
it  or  we're  done  for.  Money  won't  save  us  when 
we've  lost  our  grip  on  the  rank  and  file.  The 
presidency  can't  be  bought  again  for  you.  If  it 
must  be  bought  next  time,  another  figure-head 
will  have  to  be  used.'Y 


UNDER   A   CRAYON    PORTRAIT  325 

"I  can't  tell  you  how  grateful  I  am,"  was  his 
conclusion  after  I  had  put  my  whole  mind  before 
him  and  he  and  I  had  discussed  it.  "But  there 
are  certain  pledges  to  Goodrich — " 

"Break  them,"  said  I.  "To  keep  them  is  catas 
trophe." 

I  knew  the  pledges  he  had  in  the  foreground  of 
his  thoughts — a  St.  Louis  understrapper  of  the 
New  York  financial  crowd  for  Secretary  of  the 
Treasury;  for  Attorney  General  a  lawyer  who 
knew  nothing  of  politics  or  public  sentiment  or 
indeed  of  anything  but  how  to  instruct  corpora 
tions  in  law-breaking  and  law-dodging. 

He  thought  a  long  time.  When  he  answered 
it  was  with  a  shake  of  the  head.  "Too  late,  I'm 
afraid,  Harvey.  I've  asked  the  men  and  they've 
accepted.  That  was  a  most  untimely  illness  of 
yours.  I'll  see  what  can  be  done.  It's  a  grave 
step  to  offend  several  of  the  most  conspicuous 
men  in  the  party." 

"Not  so  serious  as  to  offend  the  party  itself,"  I 
replied.  "Money  is  a  great  power  in  politics,  but 
partizanship  is  a  greater." 

"I'll  think  it  over,"  was  the  most  he  had  the 


326  THE   PLUM   TREE 

courage  to  concede.  "I  must  look  at  all  sides, 
you  know.  But,  whatever  I  decide,  I  thank  you 
for  your  candor." 

We  separated,  the  best  friends  in  the  world,  I 
trying  to  recover  some  few  of  the  high  hopes  of 
him  that  had  filled  me  on  election  night.  "He's 
weak  and  timid,"  I  said  to  myself,  "but  at  bottom 
he  must  have  a  longing  to  be  President  in  fact  as 
well  as  in  name.  Even  the  meanest  slave  longs  to 
be  a  man." 

I  should  have  excepted  the  self-enslaved  slaves 
of  ambition.  Of  all  bondmen,  they  alone,  I  be 
lieve,  not  only  do  not  wish  freedom,  but  also  are 
ever  plotting  how  they  may  add  to  their  chains. 


XXIX 

&   LETTER   FROM    THE   DEAD 

I  was  living  alone  at  the  Willard. 

Soon  after  the  death  of  Burbank's  wife,  his  sis 
ter  and  brother-in-law,  the  Gracies,  had  come  with 
their  three  children  to  live  with  him  and  to  look 
after  his  boy  and  girl.  Trouble  between  his 
family  and  mine,  originating  in  some  imperti 
nences  of  the  oldest  Gracie  girl,  spread  from  the 
children  to  the  grown  people  until,  when  he  went 
into  the  White  House,  he  and  I  were  the  only  two 
on  speaking  terms.  I  see  now  that  this  situation 
had  large  influence  on  me  in  holding  aloof  and 
waiting  always  for  overtures  from  him.  At  the 
time  I  thought,  as  no  doubt  he  thought  also,  that 
the  quarrel  was  beneath  the  notice  of  men. 

At  any  rate  my  family  decided  not  to  come  to 
Washington  during  his  first  winter  in  the  White 
House.  I  lived  alone  at  the  Willard.  One  after 
noon  toward  the  end  of  February  I  returned  there 
from  the  Senate  and  found  Woodruff,  bad  news 
327 


328  THE   PLUM   TREE 

in  his  face.  "What  is  it?"  I  asked  indifferently, 
for  I  assumed  it  was  some  political  tangle. 

"Your  wife — was  taken — very  ill — very  sud 
denly,"  he  said.  His  eyes  told  me  the  rest. 

If  I  had  ever  asked  myself  how  this  news  would 
affect  me,  I  should  have  answered  that  it  would 
give  me  a  sensation  of  relief.  But,  instead  of  re 
lief,  I  felt  the  stunning  blow  of  a  wave  of  sorrow 
which  has  never  wholly  receded.  Not  because  I 
loved  her — that  I  never  did.  Not  because  she  was 
the  mother  of  my  children — my  likes  and  dislikes 
are  direct  and  personal.  Not  because  she  was  my 
wife — that  bond  had  been  galling.  Not  because 
I  was  fond  of  her — she  had  one  of  those  cold, 
angry  natures  that  forbid  affection.  No;  I  was 
overwhelmed  because  she  and  I  had  been  inti 
mates,  with  all  the  closest  interests  of  life  in  com 
mon,  with  the  whole  world,  even  my  children 
whom  I  loved  passionately,  outside  that  circle 
which  fate  had  drawn  around  us  two.  I  imagine 
this  is  not  uncommon  among  married  people, — 
this  unhealable  break  in  their  routine  of  associa 
tion  when  one  departs.  No  doubt  it  often  passes 
with  the  unthinking  for  love  belatedly  discovered. 


A   LETTER   FROM   THE   DEAD  329 

"She  did  not  suffer,"  said  Woodruff  gently. 
"It  was  heart  disease.  She  had  just  come  in  from 
a  ride  with  your  oldest  daughter.  They  were 
resting  and  talking  in  high  spirits  by  the  library 
fire.  And  then — the  end  came — like  putting  out 
the  light." 

Heart  disease !  Often  I  had  noted  the  irregu 
lar  beat  of  her  heart — a  throb,  a  long  pause,  a 
flutter,  a  short  pause,  a  throb.  And  I  could  re 
member  that  more  than  once  the  sound  had  been 
followed  by  the  shadowy  appearance,  in  the  door 
of  my  mind,  of  one  of  those  black  thoughts 
which  try  to  tempt  hope  but  only  make  it  hide  in 
shame  and  dread.  Now,  the  memory  of  those  oc 
casions  tormented  me  into  accusing  myself  of 
having  wished  her  gone.  But  it  was  not  so. 

She  had  told  me  she  had  heart  trouble ;  but  she 
had  confided  to  no  one  that  she  knew  it  might 
bring  on  the  end  at  any  moment.  She  left  a  let 
ter,  sealed  and  addressed  to  me : 

Harvey — 

I  shall  never  have  the  courage  to  tell  you,  yet  I  feel  you 
ought  to  know.  I  think  every  one  attributes  to  every  one 
else  less  shrewdness  than  he  possesses.  I  know  you  have 


330  THE   PLUM   TREE 

never  given  me  the  credit  of  seeing  that  you  did  not  love 
me.  And  you  were  so  kind  and  considerate  and  so  patient 
with  my  moods  that  no  doubt  I  should  have  been  deceived 
had  I  not  known  what  love  is.  I  think,  to  have  loved  and 
to  have  been  loved  develops  in  a  woman  a  sort  of  sixth 
sense — sensitiveness  to  love.  And  that  had  been  developed 
in  me,  and  when  it  never  responded  to  your  efforts  to  de 
ceive  me,  I  knew  you  did  not  love  me. 

Well,  neither  did  I  love  you,  though  I  was  able  to  hide 
it  from  you.  And  it  has  often  irritated  me  that  you  were  so 
unobservant.  You  know  now  the  cause  of  many  of  my  dim- 
cult  moods,  which  have  seemed  causeless. 

I  admired  you  from  the  first  time  we  met.  I  have  liked 
you,  I  have  been  proud  of  you,  I  would  not  have  been  the 
wife  of  any  other  man  in  the  world,  I  would  not  have  had 
any  other  father  for  my  children.  But  I  have  kept  on  loving 
the  man  I  loved  before  I  met  you. 

Why?  I  don't  know.  I  despised  him  for  his  weaknesses. 
I  should  never  have  married  him,  though  mother  and  Ed 
both  feared  I  would.  I  think  I  loved  him  because  I  knew  he 
loved  me.  That  is  the  way  it  is  with  women — they  seldom 
love  independently.  Men  like  to  love;  women  like  to  be 
loved.  And,  poor,  unworthy  creature  that  he  was,  still  he 
would  have  died  for  me,  though  God  had  denied  him  the 
strength  to  live  for  me.  But  all  that  God  gave  him — the 
power  to  love — he  gave  me.  And  so  he  was  different  in  my 
eyes  from  what  he  was  in  any  one's  else  in  the  world.  And 
I  loved  him. 

I  don't  tell  you  this  because  I  feel  regret  or  remorse.  I 
don't;  there  never  was  a  wife  truer  than  I,  for  I  put  him 


A   LETTER   FROM   THE   DEAD  331 

completely  aside.  I  tell  you,  because  I  want  you  to  remem 
ber  me  right  after  I'm  gone,  Harvey  dear.  You  may  re 
member  how  I  was  silly  and  jealous  of  you,  and  think  I 
am  mistaken  about  my  own  feelings.  But  jealousy  doesn't 
mean  love.  When  people  really  love,  I  think  it's  seldom 
that  they're  jealous.  What  makes  people  jealous  usually  is 
suspecting  the  other  pe'rson  of  having  the  same  sort  of 
secret  they  have  themselves.  It  hurt  my  vanity  that  you 
didn't  love  me;  and  it  stung  me  to  think  you  cared  for 
some  one  else',  just  as  I  did. 

I  want  you  to  remember  me  gently.  And  somehow  I 
think  that,  after  you've  read  this,  you  will,  even  if  you  did 
love  some  one  else.  If  you  ever  see  this  at  all,  Harvey — 
and  I  may  tear  it  up  some  day  on  impulse — but  if  you  ever 
do  see  it,  I  shall  be  dead,  and  we  shall  both  be  free.  And  I 
want  you  to  come  to  me  and  look  at  me  and — " 


It  ended  thus  abruptly.  No  doubt  she  had  in 
tended  to  open  the  envelope  and  finish  it — but, 
what  more  was  there  to  say? 

I  think  she  must  have  been  content  with  the 
thoughts  that  were  in  my  mind  as  I  looked  down 
at  her  lying  in  death's  inscrutable  calm.  I  had 
one  of  my  secretaries  hunt  out  the  man  she  had 
loved — a  sad,  stranded  wreck  of  a  man  he  had  be 
come  ;  but  since  that  day  he  has  been  sheltered  at 


332  THE   PLUM   TREE 

least  from  the  worst  of  the  bufferings  to  which  his 
incapacity  for  life  exposed  him. 

There  was  a  time  when  I  despised  incapables; 
then  I  pitied  them;  but  latterly  I  have  felt  for 
them  the  sympathetic  sense  of  brotherhood.  Are 
we  not  all  incapables?  Differing  only  in  degree, 
and  how  slightly  there,  if  we  look  at  ourselves 
without  vanity;  like  practice-sketches  put  upon 
the  slate  by  Nature's  learning  hand  and  impa 
tiently  sponged  away. 


XXX 

A  PHILOSOPHER  RUDELY  INTERRUPTED 

After  the  funeral  I  lingered  at  our  Fredonia 
place.  There  was  the  estate  to  settle;  my  two 
daughters  had  now  no  one  to  look  after  them; 
Junior  must  be  started  right  at  learning  the  busi 
ness  of  which  he  would  soon  be  the  head,  as  his 
uncle  had  shown  himself  far  too  easy-going  for 
large  executive  responsibility.  So,  I  stayed  on, 
doing  just  enough-  to  keep  a  face  of  plausibility 
upon  my  pretexts  for  not  returning  to  Washing 
ton.  The  fact  was  that  Carlotta's  death  had  deep 
ened  my  mood  of  distaste  into  disgust.  It  had  set 
me  to  brooding  over  the  futility  and  pettiness  of 
my  activities  in  politics,  of  all  activities  of  what 
ever  kind.  I  watched  Ed  and  my  children  resum 
ing  the  routine  of  their  lives,  swiftly  adjusting 
themselves  to  the  loss  of  one  who  had  been  so  dear 
to  them  and  apparently  so  necessary  to  their  hap 
piness.  The  cry  of  "man  overboard,"  a  few  rip 
ples,  a  few  tears ;  the  sailing  on,  with  the  surface 

333 


334  THE   PLUM   TREE 

of  the  water  smooth  again  and  the  faces  keen  and 
bright. 

Woodruff  wrote,  urging ;  then  he  sent  telegram 
after  telegram.  Still  I  procrastinated ;  for  all  the 
effect  his  letters  and  telegrams  had  upon  me,  I 
might  as  well  have  left  them  unopened.  My  final 
answer  was  :  "Act  as  you  would  if  I  were  dead." 

Probably,  what  had  given  my  pessimism  its 
somberest  tone  was  the  attitude  of  the  public  to 
ward  Burbank's  high  appointments.  I  had  con 
fidently  predicted  that  filling  all  the  high  offices 
with  men  who  had  no  interest  but  "the  interests," 
men  who  were  notoriously  the  agents  and  servants 
of  the  great  "campaign  contributors,"  would 
cause  a  public  outcry  that  could  not  be  ignored. 
The  opposition  press  did  make  perfunctory  criti 
cisms  ;  but  nowhere  was  there  a  sign  that  the  peo 
ple  were  really  angered. 

I  got  the  clue  to  this  mystery  from  my  garden 
er,  who  prided  himself  on  being  strenuously  of  the 
opposition  party.  "What  do  you  think  of  the  new 
administration?"  said  I  when  I  came  upon  him 
one  morning  at  the  rhododendron  beds. 


A   PHILOSOPHER   INTERRUPTED  335 

"Much  better  than  I  allowed,"  said  he.  "Bur- 
bank's  got  good  men  around  him." 

"You  approve  of  his  Cabinet?" 

"Of  course,  they're  all  strong  party  men.  I 
like  a  good  party  man.  I  like  a  man  that  has  con 
victions  and  principles,  and  stands  up  for  'em." 

"Your  newspapers  say  some  pretty  severe 
things  about  those  men." 

"So  I  read,"  said  he,  "but  you  know  how  that 
is,  Mr.  Sayler.  They've  got  to  pound  'em  to 
please  the  party.  But  nobody  believes  much  he 
sees  in  the  newspapers.  Whenever  I  read  an  item 
about  things  I  happen  to  know,  it's  all  wrong. 
And  I  guess  they  don't  get  it  any  nearer  right 
about  the  things  I  don't  happen  to  know.  Now, 
all  this  here  talk  of  there  being  so  many  million 
aires — I  don't  take  no  kind  of  stock  in  it." 

"No?"  said  I. 

"Of  course,  some's  poor  and  some's  rich — that's 
got  to  be.  But  I  think  it's  all  newspaper  lies 
about  these  here  big  fortunes  and  about  all  the 
leading  men  in  politics  being  corrupt.  I  know  it 
ain't  so  about  the  leading  men  in  my  party,  and  I 


336  THE   PLUM   TREE 

reckon  there  ain't  no  more  truth  in  it  about  the 
leading  men  of  your'n.  I  was  saying  to  my  wife 
last  night,  'It's  all  newspaper  lies/  says  I,  'just 
like  the  story  they  printed  about  Mrs.  Timmins 
eloping  with  Maria  Wilmerding's  husband,  when 
she  had  only  went  over  to  Rabbit  Forks  to  visit 
her  married  daughter/  No,  they  can't  fool  me — 
them  papers." 

"That's  one  way  of  looking  at  it/'  said  I. 

"It's  horse  sense,"  said  he. 

And  I  have  no  doubt  that  to  the  average  citizen, 
leading  a  small,  quiet  life  and  dealing  with  affairs 
in  corner-grocery  retail,  the  stupendous  facts  of 
accumulations  of  wealth  and  wholesale,  far-and- 
wide  purchases  of  the  politicians,  the  vast  sys 
tem  of  bribery,  with  bribes  adapted  to  every  taste 
and  conscience,  seem  impossibilities,  romanc- 
ings  of  partizanship  and  envy  and  sensationalism. 
Nor  can  he  understand  the  way  superior  men  play 
the  great  games,  the  heartlessness  of  ambition,  the 
cynicism  of  political  and  commercial  prostitution, 
the  sense  of  superiority  to  the  legal  and  moral 
codes  which  comes  to  most  men  with  success. 

Your  average  citizen  is  a  hero-worshiper  too. 


A   PHILOSOPHER   INTERRUPTED  337 

He  knows  his  own  and  his  neighbor's  weaknesses, 
but  he  gapes  up  at  the  great  with  glamoured  eyes, 
and  listens  to  their  smooth  plausibilities  as  to  the 
reading  of  the  Gospel  from  the  pulpit.  He  be 
longs  to  the  large  mass  of  those  who  believe,  not 
to  the  small  class  of  those  who  question.  But  for 
the  rivalries  and  jealousies  of  superior  men  which 
have  kept  them  always  divided  into  two  parties, 
the  ins  and  the  outs,  I  imagine  the  masses  wrould 
have  remained  for  ever  sunk  in  the  most  hopeless, 
if  the  most  delightful,  slavery — that  in  which  the 
slave  accepts  his  lowliness  as  a  divine  ordinance 
and  looks  up  to  his  oppressors  and  plunderers  as 
hero-leaders.  And  no  doubt,  so  long  as  the  ex 
uberant  riches  of  our  country  enable  the  trium 
phant  class  to  "take  care  of"  all  the  hungry  who 
have  intellect  enough  to  make  themselves  danger 
ous,  we  shall  have  no  change — except  occasional 
spasms  whenever  a  large  number  of  unplaced  in 
telligent  hungry  are  forcing  the  full  and  fat  to 
make  room  for  them.  How  long  will  this  be? 
If  our  education  did  not  merely  feed  prejudices 
instead  of  removing  them,  I  should  say  not  long. 
As  it  is,  I  expect  to  "leave  the  world  as  wicked 


338  THE   PLUM   TREE 

and  as  foolish  as  I  found  it."  At  any  rate,  until 
the  millenium,  I  shall  continue  to  play  the  game 
under  the  rules  of  human  nature — instead  of  un 
der  the  rules  of  human  ideals,  as  does  my 
esteemed  friend  Scarborough.  And  I  claim  that 
we  practical  men  are  as  true  and  useful  servants 
of  our  country  and  of  our  fellow  men  as  he.  If 
men  like  him  are  the  light,  men  like  us  are  the 
lantern  that  shields  it  from  the  alternating  winds 
of  rapacity  and  resentment. 

But,  in  running  on  about  myself,  I  have  got 
away  from  my  point,  which  was  how  slight  and 
even  flimsy  a  pretense  of  fairness  will  shelter  a 
man  in  high  place — and  therefore  a  Burbank. 
"He  will  fool  the  people  as  easily  as  he  fools  him 
self,"  said  I.  And  more  than  ever  it  seemed  to 
me  that  I  must  keep  out  of  the  game  of  his  admin 
istration.  My  necessity  of  party  regularity  made 
it  impossible  for  me  to  oppose  him;  my  equal 
necessity  of  not  outraging  my  sense  of  the  wise, 
not  to  speak  of  the  decent,  made  it  impossible  for 
me  to  abet  him. 

At  last  Woodruff  came  in  person.  When  his 
name  was  brought  to  me,  I  regretted  that  I  could 


A   PHILOSOPHER   INTERRUPTED  339 

not  follow  my  strong  impulse  to  refuse  to  see  him. 
But  at  sight  of  his  big  strong  body  and  big  strong 
face,  with  its  typically  American  careless  good 
humor — the  cool  head,  the  warm  heart,  the 
amused  eyes  and  lips  that  could  also  harden  into 
sternness  of  resolution — at  sight  of  this  old 
friend  and  companion-in-arms,  my  mood  began 
to  lift  and  I  felt  him  stirring  in  it  like  sunshine 
attacking  a  fog.  "I  know  what  you've  come  to 
say,"  I  began,  "but  don't  say  it.  I  shall  keep  to 
my  tent  for  the  present." 

"Then  you  won't  have  a  tent  to  keep  to,"  re 
torted  he. 

"Very  well,"  said  I.  "My  private  affairs  will 
give  me  all  the  occupation  I  need." 

He  laughed.  "The  general  resigns  from  the 
command  of  the  army  to  play  with  a  box  of  lead 
soldiers." 

"That  sounds  well,"  said  I.  "But  the  better 
the  analogy,  the  worse  the  logic.  I  am  going  out 
of  the  business  of  making  and  working  off  gold 
bricks  and  green  goods — and  that's  no  analogy." 

"Then  you  must  be  going  to  kill  yourself,"  he 
replied.  "For  that's  life." 


340  THE   PLUM   TREE 

"Public  life— active  life,"  said  I.  "Here,  there 
are  other  things."  And  I  looked  toward  my  two 
daughters,  whose  laughter  reached  us  from  their 
pony-cart  just  rounding  a  distant  curve  in  the 
drive. 

His  gaze  followed  mine  and  he  watched  the  two 
children  until  they  were  out  of  sight,  watched 
them  with  the  saddest,  hungriest  look  in  his  eyes. 
"Guess  you're  right,"  he  said  gruffly. 

After  a  silence  I  asked :     "What's  the  news?" 

A  quizzical  smile  just  curled  his  lips,  and  it 
broadened  into  a  laugh  as  he  saw  my  own  rather 
shamefaced  smile  of  understanding.  "Seems  to 
me,"  said  he,  "that  I  read  somewhere  once  how  a 
king,  perhaps  it  was  an  emperor,  so  hankered  for 
the  quiet  joys  that  he  got  off  the  throne  and  re 
tired  to  a  monastery — and  then  established  lines 
of  post-horses  from  his  old  capital  to  bring  him 
the  news  every  half-hour  or  so.  I  reckon  he'd 
have  taken  his  job  back  if  he  could  have  got  it." 

"I  reckon,"  said  I. 

"Well,"  said  he,  "the  news  is  that  they're  about 
to  oust  you  from  the  chairmanship  of  the  national 
committee  and  from  control  in  this  state." 


A  PHILOSOPHER  INTERRUPTED    341 

"Really?"  said  I,  in  an  indifferent  tone — 
though  I  felt  anything  but  indifferent. 

"Really,"  said  he.  "Burbank  is  throwing  out 
our  people  throughout  the  country  and  is  putting 
Goodrich  men  in  place  of  'em — wherever  our  fel 
lows  won't  turn  traitor.  And  they've  got  hold  of 
Roebuck.  He's  giving  a  dinner  at  the  Auditor 
ium  to-morrow  night.  It's  a  dinner  of  eleven 
covers.  I  think  you  can  guess  who  ten  of  'em  are 
for.  The  eleventh  is  for  Dominick !" 

That  was  enough.  I  grasped  the  situation  in 
stantly.  The  one  weak  spot  in  my  control  of  my 
state  was  my  having  left  the  city  bosses  their 
local  power,  instead  of  myself  ruling  the  cities 
from  the  state  capital.  (Why  had  I  done, this? 
Perhaps  the  bottQm--4^sW--was-4hakJL-  shrank 
from  permitting  any  part  of  the,  riia.cliin£L_jpr 
which  I  was  directly  responsible  to. .fie.. financed 
by  collections  from  vice  and  crime.  I  admit  that 
the  distinction  between  corporate  privilege  and 
plunder  and  the  pickings  and  stealings  and  prosti 
tutions  of  individuals  is  more  apparent  than  real. 
I  admit  that  the  kinds  of  vice  and  crime  I  toler 
ated  are  far  more  harmful  than  the  other  sorts 


342  THE   PLUM   TREE 

which  are  petty  and  make  loathed  outcasts  of 
their  wretched  practitioners.  Still,  I  was  snob 
or  Pharisee  or  Puritan  enough  to  feel  and  to  act 
upon  the  imaginary  distinction.  And  so,  I  had 
left  the  city  bosses  locally  independent — for, 
without  the  revenues  and  other  aids  from  vice 
and  crime,  what  city  political  machine  could  be 
kept  up? 

"Dominick!"  I  exclaimed. 

"Exactly!"  said  Woodruff.  "Now,  Mr.  Say- 
ler,  the  point  is  just  here.  I  don't  blame  you  for 
wanting  to  get  out.  If  I  had  any  other  game,  I'd 
get  out  myself.  But  what's  to  become  of  us — 
of  all  your  friends,  not  only  in  this  state  but 
throughout  the  country?  Are  you  going  to  stand 
by  and  see  them  slaughtered  and  not  lift  a  finger 
to  help 'em?" 

There  was  no  answering  him.  Yet  the  spur  of 
vanity,  which  clipped  into  me  at  thought  of  my 
self  thrown  down  and  out  by  these  cheap  in- 
grates  and  scoundrels,  had  almost  instantly 
ceased  to  sting;  and  my  sense  of  weary  disgust 
had  returned.  If  I  went  into  the  battle  again, 
'what  work  faced  me?  The  same  old  monotonous 


A   PHILOSOPHER   INTERRUPTED  343 

round.  xTo  outflank  Burbank  and  Goodrich  by 
jfricks  as  old  as  war  and  politics,  and  effective 
only  because  human  stupidity  is  infinite  and  un- 
teachable.  To  beat  down  and  whip  back  into  the 
ranks  again  these  bandits  of  commerce  disguised 
as  respectable,  church-going,  law-upholding  men 
of  property — and  to  do  this  by  the  same  old 
methods  of  terror  and  force. 

"You  can't  leave  us  in  the  lurch,"  said  Doc. 
"And  the  game  promises  to  be  interesting  once 
more.  I  don't  like  racing  on  the  flat.  It's  the 
hurdles  that  make  the  fun." 

I  pictured  myself  again  a  circus  horse,  going 
round  and  round  the  ring,  jumping  the  same  old 
hurdles  at  the  same  old  intervals.  "Take  my 
place,  Doc,"  said  I. 

He  shook  his  head.  "I'm  a  good  second,"  said 
he,  "but  a  rotten  bad  first." 

It  was  true  enough.  He  mysteriously  lacked 
that  mysterious  something  which,  when  a  man 
happens  to  have  been  born  with  it,  makes  other 
men  yield  him  the  command — give  it  to  him, 
force  it  on  him,  if  he  hangs  back. 

"What  do  you  want  me  to  do  ?"  I  asked. 


344  THE   PLUM   TREE 

"That  dinner  to-morrow  night  is  in  Suite  L. 
Go  to  it — that's  the  shortest  way  to  put  Roebuck 
and  Dominick  out  of  business.  Face  'em  and 
they'll  skulk." 

"It's  a  risk,"  said  I.  I  saw  at  once  that  he  was 
right,  but  I  was  in  a  reluctant  humor. 

"Not  a  bit  of  it,"  was  his  confident  reply.  "I 
had  a  horse  that  was  crazy — would  run  away  on 
any  old  provocation.  But  no  matter  how  busy 
he  was  at  kicking  up  the  dust  and  the  dashboard, 
you  could  always  halt  him  by  ringing  a  bell  once. 
He'd  been  in  the  street-car  service.  That's  the 
way  it  is  with  men,  especially  strong  men,  that 
have  been  broken  to  the  bell.  They  hear  it  ring 
and  they  can't  resist.  Go  up  and  ring  the  bell." 

"Go  ring  it  yourself,"  said  I. 

"You're  the  bell,"  said  he. 


XXXI 

HARVEY    SAYLER,    SWINEHERD 

At  a  little  after  eight  the  following  night,  I 
was  in  Chicago,  was  knocking  at  Suite  L  in  the 
Auditorium  Hotel;  I  was  hearing  sounds  from 
within  that  indicated  that  the  dinner  was  under 
way.  The  door  swung  back  and  there  stood  old 
Roebuck  himself,  napkin  in  hand,  his  shriveling 
old  face  showing  that  his  dollar  sense  was  taking 
up  the  strength  which  his  other  senses  were  los 
ing.  He  was  saying  cordially,  "Ah,  Croffut,  you 
are  late—" 

Then  his  dim  eyes  saw  me;  he  pulled  himself 
up  like  a  train  when  the  air-brakes  are  clapped 
on. 

"They  told  me  at  the  office  that  you  were  at 
dinner,"  said  I  in  the  tone  of  one  who  has  un 
intentionally  blundered.  "As  I  was  looking  for 
dinner,  I  rather  hoped  you'd  ask  me  to  join  you. 
But  I  see  that—" 

"Come  right  in,"  he  said  smoothly,  but  gray 
345 


346  THE   PLUM   TREE 

as  a  sheep.  "You'll  find  some  old  friends  of 
yours.  We're  taking  advantage  of  the  conven 
tion  of  western  manufacturers  to  have  a  little  re 
union." 

I  now  had  a  full  view  of  the  table.  There  was 
a  silence  that  made  the  creaking  of  starched 
evening  shirt-bosoms  noisy  as  those  men  drew 
long  stealthy  breaths  when  breathing  became  im 
perative.  All  my  "clients"  and  Dominick — he  at 
Roebuck's  right.  At  Roebuck's  left  there  was  a 
vacant  chair.  "Shall  I  sit  here?"  said  I  easily. 

"That  place  was  reserved — was  for — but — " 
stammered  Roebuck. 

"For  Granby's  ghost?"  said  I  pleasantly. 

His  big  lips  writhed.  And  as  my  glance  of 
greeting  to  these  old  friends  of  mine  traveled 
down  one  side  of  the  table  and  up  the  other,  it 
might  have  been  setting  those  faces  on  fire,  so 
brightly  did  they  flare.  It  was  hard  for  me  to 
keep  my  disgust  beneath  the  surface.  Those 
"gentlemen"  assembled  there  were  among  the 
"leading  citizens"  of  my  state ;  and  Roebuck  was 
famous  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic  as  a  king 
of  commerce  and  a  philanthropist.  Yet,  every 


HARVEY    SAYLER,    SWINEHERD  347 

one  of  those  brains  was  busy  most  of  its 
hours  with  assassin-like  plottings — and  for  what 
purpose?  For  ends  so  petty,  so  gross  and  stu 
pid  that  it  was  inconceivable  how  intelligence 
could  waste  life  upon  them,  not  to  speak  of  the 
utter  depravity  and  lack  of  manliness.  Liars, 
cheats,  bribers;  and  flaunting  the  fruits  of  in 
famy  as  honors,  as  titles  to  respect,  as  gifts  from; 
Almighty  God!  And  here  they  were,  assembledV 
now  for  silly  plottings  against  the  man  whose 
only  offense  in  their  eyes  was  that  he  was  saving 
them  from  themselves — was  preventing  them 
from  killing  the  goose  that  would  cheerfully  keep 
on  laying  golden  eggs  for  the  privilege  of  remain-  / 
ing  alive.  It  was  pitiful.  It  was  nauseating.  l' 
felt  my  degradation  in  stooping  to  such  com 
pany. 

I  spoke  to  Dominick  last.  To  my  surprise  he 
squarely  returned  my  gaze.  His  eyes  were  twink 
ling,  as  the  eyes  of  a  pig  seem  to  be,  if  you  look 
straight  into  its  face  when  it  lifts  its  snout  from 
a  full  trough.  Presently  he  could  contain  the 
huge  volume  of  his  mirth  no  longer.  It  came 
roaring  from  him  in  a  great  coarse  torrent,  shak- 


348  THE   PLUM   TREE 

ing  his  vast  bulk  and  the  chair  that  sustained  it, 
swelling  the  veins  in  his  face,  resounding 
through  the  silent  room  while  the  waiters  liter 
ally  stood  aghast.  At  last  he  found  breath  to 
ejaculate:  "Well,  I'll  be  good  and— damned !" 

This  gale  ripped  from  the  others  and  whirled 
away  their  cloaks  of  surface-composure.  Naked, 
they  suggested  a  lot  of  rats  in  a  trap — Dominick 
jeering  at  them  and  anticipating  the  pleasure  of 
watching  me  torment  them.  I  choked  back  the 
surge  of  repulsion  and  said  to  Roebuck:  "Then 
where  shall  I  sit?" 

Roebuck  looked,  almost  wildly,  toward  the 
foot  of  the  table.  He  longed  to  have  me  as  far 
from  him  as  possible.  Partridge,  at  the  foot  of 
the  table,  cried  out — in  alarm:  "Make  room  for 
the  Senator  between  you  and  Mr.  Dominick,  Roe 
buck  !  He  ought  to  be  as  near  the  head  of  the  ta 
ble  as  possible." 

"No  matter  where  Senator  Sayler  sits,  it's  the 
head  of  the  table,"  said  Roebuck.  His  common 
place  of  courtesy  indicated,  not  recovered  self- 
control,  but  the  cunning  of  his  rampant  instinct 
of  self-preservation — that  cunning  which  men 


HARVEY    SAYLER,    SWINEHERD  349 

so  often  exhibit  in  desperate  straits,  thereby  win 
ning  credit  for  cool  courage. 

"We're  a  merry  company,"  said  I,  as  we  sat. 
This,  with  a  glance  at  Dominick  heaving  in  the 
subsiding  storm  of  his  mirth.  My  remark  set  him 
off  again.  I  glanced  at  his  place  to  see  if  he  had 
abandoned  his  former  inflexible  rule  of  total  ab 
stinence.  There  stood  his  invariable  pot  of  tea. 
Clearly,  it  was  not  drink  that  enabled  him  to  en 
joy  a  situation  which,  as  it  seemed  to  me,  was 
fully  as  unattractive  for  him  as  for  his  fellows. 

Soon  the  door  opened  and  in  strode  Croffut; 
handsome,  picturesque,  with  his  pose  of  dashing, 
brave  manhood,  which  always  got  the  crowds 
into  the  mood  for  the  frenzy  his  oratory  con 
jured.  Croffut  seemed  to  me  to  put  the  climax 
upon  this  despicable  company — Croffut,  one  of 
the  great  orators  of  the  party,  so  adored  by  the 
people  that,  but  for  our  overwhelming  superiority 
in  the  state,  I  should  never  have  dared  eject  him 
from  office.  Since  I  ejected  him  he  had  not 
spoken  to  me.  Dominick  looked  at  him,  said  in  a 
voice  that  would  have  flared  even  the  warm 
ashes  of  manhood  into  a  furious  blaze :  "Go 


350  THE   PLUM   TREE 

and  shake  hands  with  Senator  Sayler,  Croffut, 
and  sit  down." 

Croffut  advanced,  smiling.  "I  am  fit  for  my 
company,"  thought  I  as  I  let  him  clasp  my  hand. 

"Better  tilt  Granby's  ghost  out  of  that  chair, 
Croffut,"  said  Dominick,  as  the  ex-Senator  was 
seating  himself.  And  in  his  animal  exuberance 
of  delight  at  his  joke  and  at  the  whole  situation 
he  clapped  Roebuck  on  the  shoulder. 

Roebuck  shrank  and  winced.  Moral  humilia 
tion  he  could  shed  as  an  armor-plated  turret 
sheds  musket-balls.  But  a  physical  humiliation, 
especially  with  spectators,  sank  in  and  sank  deep. 
Instantly,  alarmed  lest  Dominick  had  seen  and 
understood,  he  smiled  and  said :  "That's  a  vigor 
ous  arm  of  yours,  Mr.  Dominick." 

"Not  bad  for  a  man  of  sixty,"  said  Dominick. 

I  ate  because  to  eat  was  a  necessary  part  of  my 
pose  of  absolute  calmness;  but  I  had  to  force 
down  the  food.  It  seemed  to  me  to  embody  the 
banquet  there  set  before  my  mental  appetite.  I 
found  I  had  no  stomach  for  that  banquet.  It 
takes  the  coarse  palate  of  youth  or  the  depraved 
palate  of  a  more  debauched  manhood  than  mine 


HARVEY   SAYLER,    SWINEHERD  351 

to  enjoy  such  a  feast.  Yet,  less  than  a  year  be 
fore,  I  had  enjoyed,  had  delighted  in,  a  far  less 
strenuous  contest  with  these  mutineers.  As  I  sat 
holding  down  my  gorge  and  acting  as  if  I  were 
at  ease,  I  suddenly  wondered  what  Elizabeth 
Crosby  would  think  of  me  if  she  could  see.  And 
then  I  saw  her,  with  a  reality  of  imagining  that 
startled  me — it  was  as  if  she  were  in  the  door 
way;  and  her  eyes  lifted  to  mine  in  that  slow, 
steady,  searching  gaze  of  hers. 

I  suppose,  if  a  soldier  thrusting  his  saber  into 
the  bowels  of  his  enemy  on  the  battle-field  were 
suddenly  to  see  before  him  his  mother  or  the 
good  and  gentle  wife  or  daughter  he  loved,  he 
would  drop  the  saber  and  fly  to  hide  himself  like 
a  murderer.  So,  I,  overwhelmed,  said  to  my 
self  :  "I  can  not  go  on !  Let  these  wretches  wal 
low  in  their  own  vileness.  I  shall  not  wallow 
with  them.  I  am  no  swineherd !" 

As  I  was  debating  how  to  escape  and  what  one 
of  the  many  other  ways  of  saving  my  friends 
and  lieutenants  I  should  adopt,  Dominick 
touched  me  on  the  arm.  "A  word  with  you,  Sen 
ator,"  said  he. 


352  THE   PLUM   TREE 

He  glanced  at  the  others  as  if  he  were  debating 
whether  he  should  order  them  from  the  table 
while  he  talked  with  me.  If  he  had  ordered  it, 
they  would  have  gone.  But  restrained,  perhaps 
by  his  crude  though  reverent  sense  of  conven 
tion,  he  rose  and  led  the  way  over  to  a  corner. 

"I  want  to  tell  you,  Senator,  that  as  soon  as 
I  got  on  to  what  this  here  push  was  plotting  I 
wired  you  askin'  an  appointment.  You'll  find 
the  telegram  at  your  house  when  you  go  home. 
I  don't  stand  for  no  foulin'.  I  play  the  game 
straight.  I  came  because  I  thought  you'd  want 
the  party  to  be  represented  at  such  a  getherin'." 

I  saw  that  he  had  come  to  the  dinner,  doubtful 
whether  any  enterprise  against  me,  promising 
enough  for  him  to  risk  embarking,  could  be 
launched;  as  soon  as  I  entered  the  room  he,  like 
the  rat  when  the  cat  interrupted  the  rat-and- 
mouse  convention  to  discuss  belling  it,  unceremo 
niously  led  the  way  to  safety.  But  this  was  not 
one  of  those  few  occasions  on  which  it  is  wise 
to  show  a  man  that  his  lies  do  not  fool  you.  "I 
am  glad  to  hear  you  say  these  things,  Dominick," 
said  I.  "I  am  glad  you  are  loyal  to  the  party." 


HARVEY    SAYLER,    SWINEHERD  353 

"You  can  trust  me,  Senator,"  said  he  earnestly. 

"I  can  trust  your  common  sense,"  said  I. 
And  I  proceeded  to  grasp  this  lucky  chance  to 
get  away.  "I  am  leaving,"  I  went  on,  "as  soon 
as  the  coffee  is  served.  I  shall  look  to  you  to  send 
these  gentlemen  home  in  a  proper  frame  of  mind 
toward  the  party." 

His  eyes  glistened.  Except  his  growing  for 
tune,  nothing  delighted  him  so  much  as  a  chance 
to  "rough-house"  his  eminently  respectable 
"pals."  He  felt  toward  them  that  quaint  mixture 
of  envy,  contempt  and  a  desire  to  fight  which  fills 
a  gamin  at  sight  of  a  fashionably  dressed  boy. 
He  put  out  his  big  hand  and  dampened  mine  with 
it.  "You  can  count  on  me,  Senator,"  he  said 
gratefully.  "I'll  trim  'em,  comb  and  tail- 
feathers." 

"Don't  overlook  their  spurs,"  said  I. 

"They  ain't  got  none,"  said  he,  "except  those 
you  lend  'em." 

We  returned  to  a  table  palled  by  sullen  dread 
— dread  of  me,  anger  against  Dominick  who,  in 
the  courage  of  his  ignorance  of  the  convention 
alities  which  restrained  them,  had  taken  the 


354  THE   PLUM   TREE 

short,  straight  cut  to  me  and  peace.  And,  as 
veterans  in  the  no-quarter  warfare  of  ambition, 
they  knew  I  had  granted  him  peace  on  no  less 
terms  than  their  heads. 

They  had  all,  even  Roebuck,  been  drinking 
freely  in  the  effort  to  counteract  the  depression. 
But  the  champagne  seemed  only  to  aggravate 
their  gloom  except  in  the  case  of  young  Jamieson. 
He  had  just  succeeded,  through  the  death  of  his 
father,  to  the  privilege  of  levying  upon  the  peo 
ple  of  eleven  counties  by  means  of  trolley  fran 
chises  which  the  legislature  had  granted  his 
father  in  perpetuity  in  return  for  financial  ser 
vices  to  "the  party."  It  is,  by  the  way,  an  inter 
esting  illustration  of  the  human  being's  lack  of 
thinking  power  that  a  legislature  could  not  give 
away  a  small  gold-mine  belonging  to  the  public 
to  any  man  for  even  a  brief  term  of  years  with 
out  causing  a  revolution,  but  could  and  does  give 
away  far  more  valuable  privileges  to  plunder  and 
to  tax,  and  give  them  away  for  ever,  without 
causing  any  real  stir.  However — young  Jamie- 
son's  liquor,  acting  upon  a  mind  that  had  not  had 
enough  experience  to  appreciate  the  meaning  of 


HARVEY   SAYLER,   SWINEHERD  355 

the  situation,  drove  him  on  to  insolent  taunts  and 
boasts,  addressed  to  his  neighbors  but  intended 
for  me.  I  ignored  him  and,  when  the  coffee  was 
served,  rose  to  depart. 

Roebuck  urged  me  to  stay,  followed  me  to  the 
coat-room,  took  my  coat  away  from  the  servant 
and  helped  me  with  it.  "I  want  to  see  you  the 
first  thing  in  the  morning,  Harvey,"  said  he. 

"I'll  call  you  up,  if  I  have  time,"  said  I. 

We  came  out  of  the  cloak-room,  his  arm  linked 
in  mine,  and  crossed  the  corner  of  the  dining- 
room  toward  the  outside  door.  Jamieson  threw 
up  his  arm  and  fluttered  his  hand  in  an  imperti 
nent  gesture  of  farewell.  "So  long,  Senator 
Swollenhead,"  he  cried  in  a  thick  voice.  "We'll 
teach  you  a  lesson  in  how  to  treat  gentlemen." 

The  last  word — gentlemen — was  just  clearing 
his  mouth  when  Dominick's  tea-pot,  flung  with 
all  the  force  of  the  ex-prize-fighter's  big  muscles 
and  big  body,  landed  in  the  midst  of  his  broad 
white  shirt-bosom.  And  with  the  tea-pot  Dom- 
inick  hurled  his  favorite  epithet  from  his  garbage 
barrel  of  language.  With  a  yell  Jamieson  crashed 
over  backward;  his  flying  legs,  caught  by  the 


356  THE   PLUM   TREE 

table,  tilted  it;  his  convulsive  kicks  sent  it  over, 
and  half  the  diners,  including  Dominick,  were 
floored  under  it. 

All  this  in  a  snap  of  the  fingers.  And  with  the 
disappearance  of  the  physical  semblance  of  a 
company  of  civilized  men  engaged  in  dining  in 
civilized  fashion,  the  last  thin  veneer  over  hate 
and  fury  was  scraped  away.  Curses  and  growl 
ing  roars  made  a  repulsive  mess  of  sound  over 
that  repulsive  mess  of  unmasked,  half-drunken, 
wholly  infuriated  brutes.  There  is  shrewd,  sly 
wisdom  snugly  tucked  away  under  the  fable  of 
the  cat  changed  into  a  queen  and  how  she  sprang 
from  her  throne  at  sight  of  a  mouse  to  pursue  it 
on  all  fours.  The  best  of  us  are,  after  all,  ani 
mals  changed  into  men  by  the  spell  of  reason; 
and  in  some  circumstances,  it  doesn't  take  much 
of  a  blow  to  dissolve  that  spell. 

For  those  men  in  those  circumstances,  that 
blow  proved  sufficient.  Partridge  extricated 
himself,  ran  round  the  table  and  kicked  Jamieson 
in  the  head — partly  in  punishment,  perhaps,  and 
because  he  needed  just  that  vent  for  his  rage,  but 
chiefly  to  get  credit  with  me,  for  he  glanced 


HARVEY   SAYLER,    SWINEHERD  357 

toward  me  as  he  did  it.  Men,  sprawling  and 
squirming  side  by  side  on  the  floor,  lashed  out 
with  feet  and  fists,  striking  each  other  and  add 
ing  to  the  wild  dishevelment.  The  candles  set 
tfire  to  the  table-cloth  and  before  the  blaze  was 
extinguished  burned  several  in  the  hair  and  mus 
taches. 

Dominick,  roaring  with  laughter,  came  to  Roe 
buck  and  me  standing  at  the  door,  both  dazed  at 
this  magic  shift  of  a  "gentlemen's"  dinner  into  a 
bear-pit.  "Granby's  ghost  is  raisin'  hell,"  said 
he. 

But  I  had  no  impulse  to  laugh  or  to  gloat. 
"Good  night,"  said  I  to  Roebuck  and  hastened 
away. 

It  was  the  end  of  the  attempt  to  mine  the 
foundations  of  my  power.  But  I  did  not  neglect 
its  plain  warning.  As  soon  as  the  legislature  as 
sembled,  I  publicly  and  strongly  advocated  the 
appointment  of  a  joint  committee  impartially  to 
investigate  all  the  cities  of  the  state,  those  ruled 
by  my  own  party  no  less  than  those  ruled  by  the 
opposition.  The  committee  was  appointed  and 
did  its  work  so  thoroughly  that  there  was  a  pop- 


358  THE   PLUM   TREE 

ular  clamor  for  the  taking  away  of  the  charters 
of  the  cities  and  for  ruling  them  from  the  state 
capital.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that  my 
legislature  and  governor  yielded  to  this  clamor. 
And  so  the  semi-independent  petty  princes,  the 
urban  bosses,  lost  their  independence  and  passed 
under  my  control;  and  the  "collections"  which 
had  gone  directly  to  them  reached  them  by  way 
of  Woodruff  as  grants  from  my  machine,  instead 
of  as  revenues  of  their  own  right. 

Before  this  securing  of  my  home  power  was 
complete,  I  had  my  counter-attack  upon  the  Bur- 
bank-Goodrich  combine  well  under  way.  Im 
mediately  on  my  return  to  Fredonia  from  the 
disastrous  dinner,  I  sent  for  the  attorney  general 
of  the  state,  Ferguson.  He  was  an  ideal  combi 
nation  of  man  and  politician.  He  held  to  the 
standards  of  private  morality  as  nearly  as  it  is 
possible  for  a  man  in  active  public  life  to  hold  to 
them — far  more  nearly  than  most  men  dare  or, 
after  they  have  become  inured,  care,  to  hold.  He 
always  maintained  with  me  a  firm  but  tactful  in 
dependence;  he  saw  the  necessity  for  the  sordid 
side  of  politics,  but  he  was  careful  personally  to 


for  hin^ 
[its,  botlj 


HARVEY    SAYLER,    SWINEHERD  359 

keep  clear  of  smutched  or  besmutching  work. 
He  had  as  keen  an  instinct  for  popularity  as  a 
bee  has  for  blossoms;  he  knew  how  to  do  or  to 
direct  unpopular  things  on  dark  nights  with  a 
dark  lantern,  how  to  do  or  to  direct  popular 
things  in  full  uniform  on  a  white  horse.  I  have 
never  ordered  any  man  to  a  task  that  was  not 
morally  congenial;  and  I  was  careful  to  respect 
Ferguson's  notion  of  self-respect.  /I  sent 
now,  and  outlined  my  plan — to  bring  suits, 
civil  and  criminal,  in  the  Federal  courts  in  the 
name  of  the  state,  against  Roebuck  and  his  asso*- 
ciates  of  the  Power  Trust. 

When  he  had  heard,  he  said :  "Yes,  Mr.  Say- 
ler,  we  can  break  up  the  Power  Trust,  can  cause 
the  indictment  and  conviction  of  Mr.  Roebuck. 
I  can  prevent  the  United  States  Attorney  General 
from  playing  any  of  the  usual  tricks  and  defend 
ing  the  men  whom  the  people  think  he  is  vigor 
ously  prosecuting.  But — " 

"But?"  said  I  encouragingly. 

"Is  this  on  the  level?  If  I  undertake  these 
prosecutions,  shall  I  be  allowed  to  push  them 
honestly?  Or  will  there  be  a  private  settlement 


360  THE   PLUM    TREE 

as  soon  as  Roebuck  and  his  crowd  see  their  dan 
ger?" 

"No  matter  what  happens,"  I  replied,  "you 
shall  prosecute  at  least  the  civil  suits  to  the  end. 
I  give  you  my  word  for  that." 

He  thanked  me  warmly,  for  he  appreciated 
that  I  was  bestowing  upon  him  an  enormous  op 
portunity  for  national  fame. 

"And  you?"  said  I.  "If  you  succeed  in  this 
prosecution,  will  you  remain  in  the  public  service 
or  will  you  accept  the  offers  the  interests  will 
make,  and  remove  to  New  York  and  become  a 
rich  corporation  lawyer?" 

He  reflected  before  answering.  "That  de 
pends,"  said  he.  "If  you  are  going  to  stay  on 
in  control  in  this  state,  I  shall  stick  to  public  life, 
for  I  believe  you  will  let  me  have  what  I  call  a 
career.  But,  if  you  are  going  to  get  out  and 
leave  me  at  the  mercy  of  those  fellows,  I  certainly 
shan't  stay  where  they  can  fool  the  people  into 
turning  on  me." 

"I  shall  stay  on,"  said  I;  "and  after  me,  there 
will  be  Woodruff — unless,  of  course,  there's  some 
sort  of  cataclysm." 


HARVEY   SAYLER,   SWINEHERD  361 

"A  man  must  take  chances,"  he  answered. 
"I'll  take  that  chance." 

We  called  Woodruff  into  the  consultation. 
Although  he  was  not  a  lawyer,  he  had  a  talent 
for  taking  a  situation  by  the  head  and  tail  and 
stretching  it  out  and  holding  it  so  that  every 
crease  and  wrinkle  in  it  could  be  seen.  And  this 
made  him  valuable  at  any  conference. 

In  January  we  had  our  big  battery  loaded, 
aimed  and  primed.  We  unmasked  it,  and  Fer 
guson  fired.  I  had  expected  the  other  side  to  act 
stupidly,  but  I  had  not  hoped  for  such  stupidity 
as  they  exhibited.  Burbank's  year  of  bathing  in 
presidential  flatteries  and  of  fawning  on  and 
cringing  to  the  multi-millionaires  and  their 
agents  hedging  him  around,  had  so  wrought  upon 
him  that  he  had  wholly  lost  his  point  of  view. 
>  And  he  let  his  Attorney  General  pooh-pooh  the 
proceedings, — this  in  face  of  the  great  popular 
excitement  and  enthusiasm.  It  was  not  until 
Roebuck's  lawyers  got  far  enough  into  the  case 
against  him  to  see  his  danger  that  the  adminis- 
\  tration  stopped  flying  in  the  teeth  of  the  cyclone 
of  public  sentiment  and  began  to  pretend  enthus- 


362  THE   PLUM   TREE 

iasm,  while  secretly  plotting  the  mistrial  of  Fer 
guson's  cases.  And  not  until  the  United  States 
Attorney  General — a  vain  Goodrich  creature 
whose  talents  were  crippled  by  his  contempt  for 
"the  rabble"  and  "demagoguery" — not  until  he 
had  it  forced  upon  him  that  Ferguson  could  not 
be  counter-mined,  did  they  begin  to  treat  with 
me  for  peace. 

I  shall  not  retail  the  negotiations.  The  up 
shot  was  that  I  let  the  administration  drop  the 
criminal  cases  against  Roebuck  in  return  for  the 
restoration  of  my  power  in  the  national  com 
mittee  of  the  party  to  the  smallest  ejected  post 
master  in  the  farthest  state.  The  civil  action  was 
pressed  by  Ferguson  with  all  his  skill  as  a  lawyer 
and  a  popularity-seeking  politician;  and  he  won 
triumphantly  in  the  Supreme  Court — the  lower 
Federal  Court  with  its  Power  Trust  judge  had 
added  to  his  triumph  by  deciding  against  him. 

Roebuck  was,  therefore,  under  the  necessity  of 
going  through  the  customary  forms  of  outward 
obedience  to  the  Supreme  Court's  order  to  him  to 
dissolve.  He  had  to  get  at  huge  expense,  and  to 
carry  out  at  huger,  a  plan  of  reorganization. 


:       HARVEY   SAYLER,   SWINEHERD  363 

Though  he  was  glad  enough  to  escape  thus 
lightly,  he  dissembled  his  content  and  grumbled 
so  loudly  that  Burbank's  fears  were  roused  and 
arrangements  were  made  to  placate  him.  The 
scheme  adopted  was,  I  believe,  suggested  by  Vice- 
President  Howard,  as  shrewd  and  cynical  a  ras 
cal  as  ever  lived  in  the  mire  without  getting 
smutch  or  splash  upon  his  fine  linen  of  respecta 
bility. 

For  several  years  there  had  been  a  strong  pop 
ular  demand  for  a  revision  of  the  tariff.  The 
party  had  promised  to  yield,  but  had  put  off  re 
deeming  its  promise.  Now,  there  arose  a  neces 
sity  for  revising  the  tariff  in  the  interest  of  "the 
interests."  Some  of  the  schedules  wrere  too  low; 
others  protected  articles  which  the  interests 
wanted  as  free  raw  materials;  a  few  could  be 
abolished  without  offending  any  large  interests 
and  with  the  effect  of  punishing  some  small  ones 
that  had  been  niggard  in  contributing  to  the 
"campaign  fund"  which  maintains  the  standing 
army  of  political  workers  and  augments  it  when 
ever  a  battle  is  on.  Accordingly,  a  revision  of 
the  tariff  was  in  progress.  To  soothe  Roebuck, 


364  THE   PLUM   TREE 

they  gave  him  a  tariff  schedule  that  would  enable 
him  to  collect  each  year  more  than  the  total  of 
the  extraordinary  expenses  to  which  I  had  put 
him.  Roebuck  "forgave"  me;  and  I  really  for 
gave  Burbank. 

But  I  washed  my  hands  of  his  administration. 
Not  only  did  I  actually  stand  aloof  but  also  I  dis 
associated  myself  from  it  in  the  public  mind. 
When  the  crash  should  come,  as  come  it  must 
with  such  men  at  the  helm,  I  wished  to  be  in  a 
position  successfully  to  take  full  charge  for  the 
work  of  repair. 


XXXII 

A  GLANCE  BEHIND  THE  MASK  OF  GRANDEUR 

Not  until  late  in  the  spring  of  his  second  year 
did  Burbank  find  a  trace  of  gall  in  his  wine. 

From  the  night  of  his  election  parasites  and 
plunderers  and  agents  of  plunderers  had  im 
prisoned  him  in  the  usual  presidential  fool's  para 
dise.  The  organs  of  the  interests  and  their  Con 
gressional  henchmen  praised  everything  he  did; 
I  and  my  group  of  Congressmen  and  my  newspa 
pers,  as  loyal  partizans,  bent  first  of  all  upon  reg 
ularity,  were  silent  where  we  did  not  praise  also. 
But  the  second  year  of  a  President's  first  term  is 
the  beginning  of  frank,  if  guarded,  criticism  of 
him  from  his  own  side.  For  it  is  practically  his 
last  year  of  venturing  to  exercise  any  real  official 
power.  The  selection  of  delegates  to  the  party's 
national  convention,  to  which  a  President  must 
submit  himself  for  leave  to  re-submit  himself  to 
the  people,  is  well  under  way  before  the  end  of 
365 


366  THE   PLUM  TREE 

his  third  year ;  and  direct  and  active  preparations 
for  it  must  begin  long  in  advance. 

Late  in  that  second  spring  Burbank  made  a 
tour  of  the  country,  to  give  the  people  the  pleas 
ure  of  seeing  their  great  man,  to  give  himself  the 
pleasure  of  their  admiration,  and  to  help  on  the 
Congressional  campaign,  the  result  of  which 
would  be  the  preliminary  popular  verdict  upon 
his  administration.  The  thinness  of  the  crowds, 
the  feebleness  of  the  enthusiasm,  the  newspaper 
sneers  and  flings  at  that  oratory  once  hailed  as  a 
model  of  dignity  and  eloquence — even  he  could 
not  accept  the  smooth  explanations  of  his  flatter 
ers.  And  in  November  came  the  party's  memora 
ble  overwhelming  defeat — reducing  our  majority 
in  the  Senate  from  twenty  to  six,  and  substituting 
for  our  majority  of  ninety-three  in  the  House  an 
opposition  majority  of  sixty-seven. 

I  talked  with  him  early  in  January  and  was 
amazed  that,  while  he  appreciated  the  public  an 
ger  against  the  party,  he  still  believed  himself 
personally  popular.  "There  is  a  lull  in  prosper 
ity,"  said  he,  "and  the  people  are  peevish." 


A   GLANCE   BEHIND   THE   MASK  367 

Soon,  however,  by  a  sort  of  endosmosis  to  which 
the  densest  vanity  is  somewhat  subject,  the  truth 
began  to  seep  through  and  to  penetrate  into  him. 

He  became  friendlier  to  me,  solicitous  toward 
spring — but  he  clung  none  the  less  tightly  to 
Goodrich.  The  full  awakening  came  in  his  third 
summer  when  the  press  and  the  politicians  of  the 
party  began  openly  to  discuss  the  next  year's 
nomination  and  to  speak  of  him  as  if  he  were  out 
of  the  running.  He  was  spending  the  hot  months 
on  the  Jersey  coast,  the  flatterers  still  swarming 
about  him  and  still  assiduous,  but  their  flatteries 
falling  upon  ever  deafer  ears  as  his  mind  rivetted 
upon  the  hair-suspended  sword.  In  early  Sep 
tember  he  invited  me  to  visit  him — my  first  invi 
tation  of  that  kind  in  two  years  and  a  half.  We 
had  three  interviews  before  he  could  nerve  him 
self  to  brush  aside  the  barriers  between  him  and 
me. 

"I  am  about  to  get  together  my  friends  with  a 
view  to  next  year,"  said  he  through  an  uneasy 
smile.  "What  do  you  think  of  the  prospects?" 

"What  do  your  friends  say?"  I  asked. 


368  THE   PLUM   TREE 

"Oh,  of  course,  I  am  assured  of  a  renomina- 
tion — "  He  paused,  and  his  look  at  me  made 
the  confident  affirmation  a  dubious  question. 

"Yes?"  said  I 

"And — don't  you  think  my  record  has  made 
me  strong?"  he  went  on  nervously. 

"Strong — with  whom?"  said  I. 

He  was  silent.  Finally  he  laid  his  hand  on 
my  knee — we  were  taking  the  air  on  the  ocean 
drive.  "Harvey,"  he  said,  "I  can  count  on  you?" 

I  shook  my  head.  "I  shall  take  no  part  in 
the  next  campaign,"  I  said.  "I  shall  resign  the 
chairmanship." 

"But  I  have  selected  you  as  my  chairman.  I 
have  insisted  on  you.  I  can't  trust  any  one  else. 
I  need  others,  I  use  others,  but  I  trust  only  you." 

I  shook  my  head.  "I  shall  resign,"  I  repeated. 
"What's  the  matter — won't  Goodrich  take  the 
place?" 

He  looked  away.  "I  have  not  seriously 
thought  of  any  one  but  you,"  he  said  reproach 
fully. 

I  happened  to  know  that  the  place  had  been  of 
fered  to  Goodrich  and  that  he  had  declined  it, 


A   GLANCE   BEHIND   THE   MASK  369 

protesting  that  I,  a  Western  man,  must  not  be 
disturbed  when  the  West  was  vital  to  the  party's 
success.  "My  resolution  is  fixed/'  said  I. 

A  long  silence,  then :  "Sayler,  have  you  heard 
anything  of  an  attempt  to  defeat  me  for  the  nom 
ination?'' 

"Goodrich  has  decided  to  nominate  Governor 
Ridgeway  of  Illinois,"  said  I. 

He  blanched  and  had  to  moisten  his  dry, 
wrinkled  lips  several  times  before  he  could  speak. 
"A  report  of  that  nature  reached  me  last  Thurs 
day,"  he  went  on.  "For  some  time  I  have  been 
perplexed  by  the  Ridgeway  talk  in  many  of  our 
organs.  I  have  questioned  Goodrich  about  it — 
and — I  must  say — his  explanations  are  not — not 
wholly  satisfactory." 

I  glanced  at  him  and  had  instantly  to  glance 
away,  so  plainly  was  I  showing  my  pity.  He 
was  not  hiding  himself  from  me  now.  He 
looked  old  and  tired  and  sick — not  mere  sickness 
of  body,  but  that  mortal  sickness  of  the  mind  and 
heart  which  kills  a  man,  often  years  before  his 
body  dies. 

"I  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  you  were 


370  THE    PLUM   TREE 

right  about  Goodrich,  Sayler.  I  am  glad  that  I 
took  your  advice  and  never  trusted  him.  I  think 
you  and  I  together  will  be  too  strong  for  him." 

"You  are  going  to  seek  a  renomination  ?"  I 
asked. 

He  looked  at  me  in  genuine  astonishment.  "It 
is  impossible  that  the  party  should  refuse  me,"  he 
said. 

I  was  silent. 

"Be  frank  with  me,  Sayler,"  he  exclaimed  at 
last.  "Be  frank.  Be  my  friend,  your  own  old 
self." 

"As  frank  and  as  friendly  as  you  have  been?" 
said  I,  rather  to  remind  myself  than  to  reproach 
him.  For  I  was  afraid  of  the  reviving  feeling  of 
former  years — the  liking  for  his  personal  charms 
and  virtues,  the  forbearance  toward  that  weak 
ness  which  he  could  no  more  change  than  he 
could  change  the  color  of  his  eyes.  His  moral 
descent  had  put  no  clear  markings  upon  his  pose. 
On  the  contrary,  he  had  grown  in  dignity 
through  the  custom  of  deference.  The  people 
passing  us  looked  admiration  at  him,  had  a  new 
sense  of  the  elevation  of  the  presidential  office. 


A  GLANCE  BEHIND   THE  MASK          371 

Often  it  takes  the  trained  and  searching  eye  to  de 
tect  in  the  majestic  fagade  the  evidences  that  the 
palace  has  degenerated  into  a  rookery  for  pariahs. 

"I  have  done  what  I  thought  for  the  best,"  he 
answered,  never  more  direct  and  manly  in  man 
ner.  "I  have  always  been  afraid,  been  on  guard, 
lest  my  personal  fondness  for  you  should  betray 
me  into  yielding  to  you  when  I  ought  not.  Per 
haps  I  have  erred  at  times,  have  leaned  back 
ward  in  my  anxiety  to  be  fair.  But  I  had  and 
have  no  fear  of  your  not  understanding.  Our 
friendship  is  too  long  established,  too  well- 
founded."  And  I  do  not  doubt  that  he  believed 
himself;  the  capacity  for  self-deception  is  rarely 
short  of  the  demands  upon  it. 

"It's  unfortunate — "  I  began.  I  was  going  to 
say  it  was  unfortunate  that  no  such  anxieties  had 
ever  restrained  him  from  yielding  to  Goodrich. 
But  I  hadn't  the  heart.  Instead,  I  finished  my 
sentence  with :  "However,  it's  idle  to  hold  a 
post-mortem  on  this  case.  The  cause  of  death  is 
unimportant.  The  fact  of  it  is  sufficient.  No 
doubt  you  did  the  best  you  could,  Mr.  President." 

My  manner  was  that  of  finality.     It  forbade 


372  THE   PLUM  TREE 

further  discussion.  He  abandoned  the  finesse  of 
negotiation. 

"Harvey,  I  ask  you,  as  a  personal  favor,  to 
help  me  through  this  crisis,"  he  said.  "I  ask 
you,  my  friend  and  my  dead  wife's  friend." 

No  depth  too  low,  no  sentiment  too  sacred! 
Anger  whirled  up  in  me  against  this  miserable, 
short-sighted  self-seeker  who  had  brought  to  a 
climax  of  spoliation  my  plans  to  guide  the  strong 
in  developing  the  resources  of  the  country.  And 
I  turned  upon  him,  intending  to  overwhelm  him 
with  the  truth  about  his  treachery,  about  his  at 
tempts  to  destroy  me.  For  I  was  now  safe  from 
his  and  Goodrich's  vengeance — they  had  de 
stroyed  themselves  with  the  people  and  with  the 
party.  But  a  glance  at  him  and — how  could 
I  strike  a  man  stretched  in  agony  upon  his  death 
bed?  "If  I  could  help  you,  I  would,"  said  I. 

"You — you  and  I  together  can  get  a  conven 
tion  that  will  nominate  me,"  he  urged,  hope  and 
fear  jostling  each  other  to  look  pleadingly  at  me 
from  his  eyes. 

"Possibly,"  I  said.  "But— of  what  use  would 
that  be?" 


A   GLANCE   BEHIND   THE   MASK  373 

He  sank  back  in  the  carriage,  yellow-white  and 
with  trembling  hands  and  eyelids.  "Then  you 
don't  think  I  could  be  elected?"  he  asked  in  a 
broken,  breathless  way. 

For  answer  I  could  only  shake  my  head.  "No 
matter  who  is  the  nominee,"  I  went  on  after  a 
moment,  "our  party  can't  win."  I  half-yielded 
to  the  impulse  of  sentimentality  and  turned  to 
him  appealingly.  "James,"  said  I,  "why  don't 
you — right  away — before  the  country  sees  you 
are  to  be  denied  a  renomination — publicly  an 
nounce  that  you  won't  take  it  in  any  circum 
stances?  Why  don't  you  devote  the  rest  of  your 
term  to  regaining  your  lost — popularity?  Every 
day  has  its  throngs  of  opportunities  for  the  man 
in  the  White  House.  Break  boldly  and  openly 
with  Goodrich  and  his  crowd." 

I  saw  and  read  the  change  in  his  face.  My 
advice  about  the  nomination  straightway  closed 
his  mind  against  me ;  at  the  mention  of  Goodrich, 
his  old  notion  of  my  jealousy  revived.  \^SndI\ 
saw,  too,  that  contact  with  and  use  of  and  sub-i 
servience  to  corruption  had  so  corrupted  him  thati 
he  no  longer  had  any  faith  in  any  method  notj 


374  THE   PLUM   TREE 

corrupt.  All  in  an  instant  I  realized  the  full 
folly  of  what  I  was  doing.  I  felt  confident  that 
by  pursuing  the  line  I  had  indicated  he  could  so 
change  the  situation  in  the  next  few  months  that 
he  would  make  it  impossible  for  them  to  refuse 
to  renominate  him,  might  make  it  possible  for 
him  to  be  elected.  But  even  if  he  had  the  wis 
dom  to  listen,  where  would  he  get  the  courage 
and  the  steadfastness  to  act?  I  gave  him  up 
finally  and  for  ever. 

A  man  may  lose  his  own  character  and  still 
survive,  and  even  go  far.  But  if  he  lose  belief 
in  character  as  a  force,  he  is  damned.  He  could 
not  survive  in  a  community  of  scoundrels. 

Burbank  sat  motionless  and  with  closed  eyes, 
for  a  long  time.  I  watched  the  people  in  the 
throng  of  carriages — hundreds  of  faces  all  turned 
toward  him,  all  showing  that  mingled  admira 
tion,  envy  and  awe  which  humanity  gives  its  ex 
alted  great.  "The  President!  The  President!" 
I  heard  every  few  yards  in  excited  undertones. 
And  hats  were  lifting,  and  once  a  crowd  of  en 
thusiastic  partizans  raised  a  cheer. 


A   GLANCE   BEHIND   THE   MASK  375 

"The  President!"  I  thought,  with  mournful 
irony.  And  I  glanced  at  him. 

Suddenly  he  was  transformed  by  an  expression 
the  most  frightful  I  have  ever  seen.  It  was  the 
look  of  a  despairing,  weak,  vicious  thing,  cor 
nered,  giving  battle  for  its  life — like  a  fox  at  bay 
before  a  pack  of  huge  dogs.  It  was  not  Burbank 
— no,  he  was  wholly  unlike  that.  It  was  Bur- 
bank's  ambition,  interrupted  at  its  meal  by  the  re 
lentless,  sure-aiming  hunter,  Fate. 

"For  God's  sake,  Burbank!"  I  exclaimed. 
"All  these  people  are  watching  us." 

"To  hell  with  them!"  he  ground  out.  "I  tell 
you,  Sayler,  I  will  be  nominated!  And  elected 
too,  by  God !  I  will  not  be  thrown  aside  like  an 
emptied  orange-skin.  I  will  show  them  that  I 
am  President." 

Those  words,  said  by  some  men,  in  some  tones, 
would  have  thrilled  me.  Said  by  him  and  in  that 
tone  and  with  that  look,  they  made  me  shudder 
and  shrink.  Neither  of  us  spoke  again.  When 
he  dropped  me  at  my  hotel  we  touched  hands  and 
smiled  formally  for  appearances  before  the  gap- 


376  THE   PLUM   TREE 

ing,  peeping,  peering  crowd.  And  as  he  drove 
away,  how  they  cheered  him — the  man  risen  high 
above  eighty  millions,  alone  on  the  mountain- 
peak,  in  the  glorious  sunshine  of  success.  The 
President ! 

The  next  seven  months  were  months  of  tur 
moil  in  the  party  and  in  the  country — a  tur 
moil  of  which  I  was  a  silent  spectator,  con 
spicuous  by  my  silence.  Burbank,  the  deepest 
passions  of  his  nature  rampant,  had  burst 
through  the  meshes  of  partizanship  and  the 
meshes  of  social  and  personal  intimacies  in 
which  he,  as  a  "good  party  man"  and  as  the 
father  of  children  with  social  aspirations  and 
as  the  worshiper  of  wealth  and  respectability, 
was  entangled  and  bound  down;  with  the  des 
perate  courage  that  comes  from  fear  of  de 
struction,  he  was  trying  to  save  himself. 

But  his  only  available  instruments  were  all 
either  Goodrich  men  or  other  kinds  of  machine- 
men;  they  owed  nothing  to  him,  they  had 
nothing  to  fear  from  him — a  falling  king  is 
a  fallen  king.  Every  project  he  devised  for 
striking  down  his  traitor  friends  and  making 


A  GLANCE  BEHIND   THE  MASK          377 

himself  popular  was  subtly  turned  by  his 
Cabinet  or  by  the  Senate  or  by  the  press  or  by 
all  three  into  something  futile  and  ridiculous  or 
contemptible.  It  was  a  complete  demonstration 
of  the  silliness  of  the  fiction  that  the  President 
could  be  an  autocrat  if  he  chose.  Even  had 
Burbank  seen  through  the  fawnings  and  the 
flatteries  of  the  traitors  round  him,  and  dis 
missed  his  Cabinet,  whatever  men  he  might 
have  put  into  it  would  not  have  attached 
themselves  to  his  lost  cause,  but  would  have 
used  their  positions  to  ingratiate  themselves 
with  the  power  that  had  used  and  exhaust 
ed  and  discarded  him. 

He  had  the  wisdom,  or  the  timidity,  to  proceed 
always  with  caution  and  safe  legality  and  so  to 
avoid  impeachment  and  degradation.  His  chief 
attempts  were,  naturally,  upon  monopoly;  they 
were  slyly  balked  by  his  sly  Attorney  General, 
and  their  failure  was  called  by  the  press,  and 
was  believed  by  the  people,  the  cause  of  the 
hard  times  which  were  just  beginning  to  be 
acute.  What  made  him  such  an  easy  victim  to 
his  lieutenants  was  not  their  craft,  but  the  fact 


378  THE   PLUM   TREE 

that  he  had  lost  his  sense  of  right  and  wrong. 
A  man  of  affairs  may  not,  indeed  will  not,  al 
ways  steer  by  that  compass;  but  he  must  have 
it  aboard.  Without  it  he  can  not  know  how  far 
off  the  course  he  is,  or  how  to  get  back  to  it.  No 
ship  ever  reached  any  port  except  that  of  fail 
ure  and  disgrace,  unless  it,  in  spite  of  all  its 
tackings  before  the  cross-winds  of  practical 
life,  kept  in  the  main  to  the  compass  and  to  the 
course. 

His  last  stagger  was — or  seemed  to  be — an 
attempt  to  involve  us  in  a  war  with  Germany. 
I  say  "seemed  to  be"  because  I  hesitate  to  as 
cribe  a  project  as  infamous  to  him,  even  when 
unbalanced  by  despair.  The  first  ugly  despatch 
he  ordered  his  Goodrich  Secretary  of  State  to 
send,  somehow  leaked  to  the  newspapers  before 
it  could  be  put  into  cipher  for  transmission.  It 
was  not  sent — for  from  the  press  of  the  entire 
country  rose  a  clamor  against  "deliberate  provo 
cation  of  a  nation  with  which  we  are,  and  wish 
to  remain,  at  peace."  He  repudiated  the  despatch 
and  dismissed  the  Secretary  of  State  in  disgrace 
to  disgrace — the  one  stroke  in  his  fight  against 


A  GLANCE  BEHIND   THE   MASK  379 

Goodrich  in  which  he  got  the  advantage.  But 
that  advantage  was  too  small,  too  doubtful  and 
too  late. 

His  name  was  not  presented  to  the  convention. 


XXXIII 


I  forced  upon  Goodrich  my  place  as  chairman 
of  the  national  committee  and  went  abroad  with 
my  daughters.  We  stayed  there  until  Scarbor 
ough  was  inaugurated.  He  had  got  his  nomina 
tion  from  a  convention  of  men  who  hated  and 
feared  him,  but  who  dared  not  flout  the  people 
and  fling  away  victory ;  he  had  got  his  election  be 
cause  the  defections  from  our  ranks  in  the  doubt 
ful  states  far  outbalanced  Goodrich's  extensive 
purchases  there  with  the  huge  campaign-fund  of 
the  interests.  The  wheel-horse,  Partizanship,  had 
broken  down,  and  the  leader,  Plutocracy,  could 
not  draw  the  chariot  to  victory  alone. 

As  soon  as  the  election  was  over,  our  people 
began  to  cable  me  to  come  home  and  take  charge. 
But  I  waited  until  Woodruff  and  my  other  faith 
ful  lieutenants  had  thoroughly  convinced  all  the 
officers  of  the  machine  how  desperate  its  plight 
was,  and  that  I  alone  could  repair  and  restore, 
380 


A   "SPASM   OF  VIRTUE''  381 

and  that  I  could  do  it  only  if  absolute  control 
were  given  me.  When  the  ship  reached  quaran 
tine  Woodruff  came  aboard;  and,  not  having 
seen  him  in  many  months,  I  was  able  to  see,  and 
was  startled  by,  the  contrast  between  the  Doc 
Woodruff  I  had  met  on  the  train  more  years  be 
fore  than  I  cared  to  cast  up,  and  the  United 
States  Senator  Woodruff,  high  in  the  councils  of 
the  party  and  high  in  the  esteem  of  its  partizans 
among  the  people.  He  was  saying:  "You  can 
have  anything  you  want,  Senator,"  and  so  on. 
But  I  was  thinking  of  him,  of  the  vicissitudes  of 
politics,  of  the  unending  struggle  of  the  foul 
stream  to  purify  itself,  to  sink  or  to  saturate  its 
mud.  For  we  ought  not  to  forget  that  if  the 
clear  water  is  saturated  with  mud,  also  the  mud 
is  saturated  with  clear  water. 

A  week  or  so  after  I  resumed  the  chairman 
ship,  Scarborough  invited  me  to  lunch  alone  with 
him  at  the  White  House.  When  I  had  seen  him, 
four  years  before,  just  after  his  defeat,  he  was 
in  high  spirits  and  looked  a  youth.  Now  it  de 
pressed  me,  but  gave  me  no  surprise,  to  find  him 
worn,  and  overcast  by  that  tragic  sadness  which 


382  THE   PLUM   TREE 

canopies  every  one  of  the  seats  of  the  mighty. 
"I  fear,  Mr.  President,"  said  I,  "you  are  rinding 
the  men  who  will  help  you  to  carry  out  your 
ideas  as  rare  as  I  once  warned  you  they  were." 

"Not  rare,"  was  his  answer,  "but  hard  to  get 
at  through  the  throngs  of  Baal-worshipers  that 
have  descended  upon  me  and  are  trying  to  hedge 


me  in." 


"Fortunately,  you  are  free  from  political  and 
social  entanglements,"  said  I,  with  ironic  intent. 

He  laughed  with  only  a  slightly  concealed  bit 
terness.  "From  political  entanglements — yes," 
said  he.  "But  not  from  social  toils.  Ever  since 
I  have  been  in  national  life,  my  wife  and  I  have 
held  ourselves  socially  aloof,  because  those  with 
whom  we  would  naturally  and  even  inevitably 
associate  would  be  precisely  those  who  would 
some  day  beset  me  for  immunities  and  favors. 
And  how  can  one  hold  to  a  course  of  any  sort  of 
justice,  if  doing  so  means  assailing  all  one's 
friends  and  their  friends  and  relatives?  For  who 
are  the  offenders?  They  are  of  the  rich,  of  the 
successful,  of  the  clever,  of  the  socially  agreeable 
and  charming.  And  how  can  one  enforce  justice 


A   "SPASM   OF   VIRTUE"  383 

against  one's  dinner  companions — and  in  favor 
of  whom?  Of  the  people,  voiceless,  distant,  un 
known  to  one.  Personal  friendship  on  the  one 
side;  on  the  other,  an  abstraction.'5 

"I  should  not  class  you  among  those  likely  to 
yield  many  inches  to  the  social  bribe,"  said  I. 

"That  is  pleasant,  but  not  candid,"  replied  he 
with  his  simple  directness.  "No  man  of  your  ex 
perience  could  fail  to  know  that  the  social  bribe 
is  the  arch-corrupter,  the  one  briber  whom  it  is 
not  in  human  nature  to  resist.  But,  as  I  was 
saying,  to  my  amazement,  in  spite  of  my  wife's 
precautions  and  mine,  I  find  myself  beset — and 
with  what  devilish  insidiousness !  When  I  re 
fuse,  simply  to  save  myself  from  flagrant  treach 
ery  to  my  obligations  of  duty,  I  find  myself  seem 
ing,  even  to  my  wife  and  to  myself,  churlish  and 
priggish;  Pharisaical,  in  the  loathsome  attitude 
of  a  moral  poseur.  Common  honesty,  in  pres 
ence  of  this  social  bribe,  takes  on  the  sneaking 
seeming  of  rottenest  hypocrisy.  It  is  indeed  hard 
to  get  through  and  to  get  at  the  men  I  want  and 
need,  and  must  and  will  have." 

"Impossible,"  said  I.    "And  if  you  could  get 


384  THE   PLUM   TREE 

at  them,  and  if  the  Senate  would  let  you  put  them 
where  they  seem  to  you  to  belong,  the  tempta 
tion  would  be  too  much  for  them.  They  too 
would  soon  become  Baal-worshipers,  the  more 
assiduous  for  their  long  abstinence." 

"Some,"  he  admitted,  "perhaps  most.  But  at 
least  a  few  would  stand  the  test — and  just  one 
such  would  repay  and  justify  all  the  labor  of  all 
the  search.  The  trouble  with  you  pessimists  is 
that  you  don't  take  our  ancestry  into  account. 
Man  isn't  a  falling  angel,  but  a  rising  animal. 
So,  every  impulse  toward  the  decent,  every  gleam 
of  light,  is  a  tremendous  gain.  The  wonder  isn't 
the  bad  but  the  good,  isn't  that  we  are  so  imper 
fect,  but  that  in  such  a  few  thousand  years  we've 
got  so  far — so  far  up.  I  know  you  and  I  have 
in  the  main  the  same  purpose — where  is  there  a 
man  who'd  like  to  think  the  world  the  worse  for 
his  having  lived?  But  we  work  by  different 
means.  You  believe  the  best  results  can  be  got 
through  that  in  man  which  he  has  inherited 
from  the  past — by  balancing  passion  against  pas 
sion,  by  offsetting  appetite  with  appetite.  I  hope 
for  results  from  that  in  the  man  of  to-day  which 


A   "SPASM   OF   VIRTUE"  385 

is  the  seed,  the  prophecy,  of  the  man  who  is  to 
be." 

"Your  method  has  had  one  recent  and  very 
striking  apparent  success,"  said  I.  "But — the 
spasm  of  virtue  will  pass." 

"Certainly,"  he  replied,  "and  so  too  will  the 
succeeding-  spasm  of  reaction.  Also,  your  party 
must  improve  itself — and  mine  too — as  the  result 
of  this  spasm  of  virtue." 

"For  a  time,"  I  admitted.  "I  envy  you  your 
courage  and  hope.  But  I  can't  share  in  them. 
You  will  serve  four  stormy  years;  you  will  re 
tire  with  friends  less  devoted  and  enemies  more 
bitter;  you  will  be  misunderstood,  maligned;  and 
there's  only  a  remote  possibility  that  your  vindi 
cation  will  come  before  you  are  too  old  to  be 
offered  a  second  term.  And  the  harvest  from  the 
best  you  sow  will  be  ruined  in  some  flood  of  re 
action." 

"No,"  he  answered.  "It  will  be  reaped.  The 
evil  I  do,  all  evil,  passes.  The  good  will  be 
reaped.  Nothing  good  is  lost." 

"And  if  it  is  reaped,"  I  rejoined,  "the  reaping 


386  THE   PLUM   TREE 

will  not  come  until  long,  long  after  you  are  a 
mere  name  in  history." 

Even  as  I  spoke  my  doubts  I  was  wishing  I 
had  kept  them  to  myself;  for,  thought  I,  there's 
no  poorer  business  than  shooting  at  the  beautiful 
soaring  bird  of  illusion.  But  he  was  looking  at 
me  without  seeing  me.  His  expression  suggested 
the  throwing  open  of  the  blinds  hiding  a  man's 
inmost  self. 

"If  a  man/'  said  he  absently,  "fixes  his  mind 
not  on  making  friends  or  defeating  enemies,  not 
on  elections  or  on  history,  but  just  on  avoiding 
from  day  to  day,  from  act  to  act,  the  condemna 
tion  of  his  own  self-respect — "  The  blinds  closed 
as  suddenly  as  they  had  opened — he  had  become 
conscious  that  some  one  was  looking  in.  And  I 
was  wishing  again  that  I  had  kept  my  doubts 
to  myself ;  for  I  now  saw  that  what  I  had  thought 
a  bright  bird  of  illusion  was  in  fact  the  lost  star 
which  lighted  my  own  youth. 

Happy  the  man  who,  through  strength  or 
through  luck,  guides  his  whole  life  by  the  star 
of  his  youth.  Happy,  but  how  rare ! 


XXXIV 
"LET  us  HELP  EACH  OTHER" 

In  the  following  September  I  took  my  daugh 
ters  to  Elizabeth.  She  looked  earnestly,  first  at 
Frances,  tall  and  slim  and  fancying  herself  a 
woman  grown,  then  at  Ellen,  short  and  round 
and  struggling  with  the  giggling  age.  "We  shall 
like  each  other,  I'm  sure/'  was  her  verdict.  "We'll 
get  on  well  together."  And  Frances  smiled,  and 
Ellen  nodded.  They  evidently  thought  so,  too. 

"I  want  you  to  teach  them  your  art/'  said  I, 
when  they  were  gone  to  settle  themselves  and 
she  and  I  were  alone. 

"My  art?" 

"The  art  of  being  one's  self.  I  am  sick  of  men 
and  women  who  hide  their  real  selves  behind  a 
pose  of  what  they  want  others  to  think  them." 

"Most  of  our  troubles  come  from  that,  don't 
they?" 

"All  mine  did,"  said  I.  "I  am  at  the  age  when 
the  very  word  age  begins  to  jar  on  the  ear,  and 
387 


388  THE   PLUM   TREE 

the  net  result  of  my  years  of  effort  is — I  have 
convinced  other  people  that  I  am  somebody  at 
the  cost  of  convincing  myself  that  I  am  nobody/* 

"No,  you  are  master,"  she  said. 

"As  a  lion-tamer  is  master  of  his  lions.  He 
gives  all  his  thought  to  them,  who  think  only  of 
their  appetites.  And  his  whole  reward  is  that 
with  his  life  in  his  hand  he  can  sometimes  cow 
them  through  a  few  worthless  little  tricks."  I 
looked  round  the  attractive  reception-room  of 
the  school.  "I  wish  you'd  take  me  in,  too/'  I 
ended. 

She  flushed  a  little,  then  shook  her  head,  her 
eyes  twinkling.  "This  is  not  a  reformatory," 
said  she.  And  we  both  laughed. 

As  I  did  not  speak  or  look  away,  but  contin 
ued  to  smile  at  her,  she  became  uneasy,  glanced 
round  as  if  seeking  an  avenue  of  retreat. 

"Yes— I  mean  just  that,  Elizabeth,"  I  admit 
ted,  and  my  tone  explained  the  words. 

She  clasped  her  hands  and  started  up. 

"In  me — in  every  one,"  I  went  on,  "there's  a 
beast  and  a  man.  Just  now — with  me — the  man 


"LET   US   HELP   EACH   OTHER"  389 

is  uppermost.    And  he  wants  to  stay  uppermost. 

Elizabeth — will  you — help  him?" 

She  lowered  her  head  until  I  could  see  only  the 

splendor  of  her  thick  hair,  sparkling  like  black 

quartz. 

"Will  you— dear?   Won't  you— dear?" 
Suddenly  she  gave  me  both  her  hands.    "Let 

us  help  each  other,"  she  said.    And  slowly  she 

lifted  her  glance  to  mine;  and  never  before  had 

I  felt  the  full  glory  of  those  eyes,  the  full  melody 

of  that  deep  voice. 

And  so,  I  end  as  I  began,  as  life  begins  and 
ends — with  a  woman.  In  a  woman's  arms  we  en 
ter  life;  in  a  woman's  arms  we  get  the  courage 
and  strength  to  bear  it;  in  a  woman's  arms  we 
leave  it.  And  as  for  the  span  between — the  busi 
ness,  profession,  career — how  colorless,  how 
meaningless  it  would  be  but  for  her! 


THE  END 


A  LIST  of  IMPORTANT  FICTION 
THE  BOBBS-MERRILL  COMPANY 


A  ROMANCE  OF  AMERICAN  CHIVALRY 

THE  LAW 
OF  THE  LAND 


Of  Miss  Lady,  whom  it  involved  in  mystery,  and  of 

John  Eddring,  gentleman  of  the  South, 

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The  whole  story  is  thoroughly  American.  It  is 
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HEARTS,    GOLD   AND   SPECULATION 


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THE  LIFE  AND  LOVES  OF  LORD  BYRON 

THE 
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AN   ANGEL   OF   THE   TEXAS   PLAINS 


HULDAH 

Proprietor  of  the  Wagon-Tire  House  and  Genial 
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For  the  man  who  feels  the  power  of  Egypt's  marvelous  past; 
For  the  man  who  is  stirred  at  heart  by  the  great  scenes  of 

the  Bible; 
For  the  man  who  likes  a  story  and  knows  when  it  is  good. 


THE  YOKE 

A  Romance  of  the  Days  when  the  Lord  Redeemed 

the  Children  of  Israel  from  the 

Bondage  of  Egypt 


A  theme  that  captures  the  imagination:  Israel's 
deliverance  from  Egypt. 

Characters  famous  for  all  time:  Moses,  the 
Pharaoh,  Prince  Rameses. 

Scenes  of  natural  and  supernatural  power;  the 
finding  ot  the  signet,  the  turning  of  the  Nile  into 
blood,  the  passage  of  the  Red  Sea. 

A  background  of  brilliant  color:  the  rich  and 
varied  life  of  Thebes  and  Memphis. 

A  plot  of  intricate  interest:  a  love  story  of 
enduring  beauty.  Such  is  "The  Yoke." 

Ornamental  cloth  binding.    626  pages 
Price  $1.50 


The  Bobbs-Merrill  Company,  Indianapolis 


LOVE,    POLITICS    AND    PELF 

THE 
GRAFTERS 

BY  FRANCIS  LYNDE 
Author  of  The  Master  of  Appleby 


One  of  the  best  examples  of  a  new  and  distinctly 
American  class  of  fiction — the  kind  which  finds  ro 
mance  and  even  sensational  excitement  in  business, 
politics,  finance  and  law.  The  Outlook 

Its  sweeping  sentences  fire  the  blood  like  new  wine. 

Boston  Post 

Telephone,  telegraph,  r  locomotive,  skirl,  click, 
thunder  through  the  pages  in  a  way  unprecedented 
in  fiction.  It  is  an  amazingly  modern  book. 

New  York  Times 

Virile,  with  the  rugged  strength  of  the  West,  The 
Grafters  is  like  the  current  of  a  deep  river,  vigorous 
and  forceful.  Louisville  Courier-Journal 

Illustrated  by  Arthur  I.  Keller 
1  zmo,  cloth,  price,  $1.50 


The  Bobbs-Merrill  Company,  Indianapolis 


A  GOOD  DETECTIVE  STORY 

THE 
FILIGREE  BALL 


By  ANNA  KATHERINE  GREEN 
Author  of  "The  Leavenworth  Case" 


This  is  something  more  than  a  mere  detective  story  ;  it  is 
a  thrilling  romance — a  romance  of  mystery  and  crime  where 
a  shrewd  detective  helps  to  solve  the  mystery.  The  plot  is  a 
novel  and  intricate  one,  carefully  worked  out.  There  are  con 
stant  accessions  to  the  main  mystery,  so  that  the  reader  can 
not  possibly  imagine  the  conclusion.  The  story  is  clean-cut 
and  wholesome,  with  a  quality  that  might  be  called  manly. 
The  characters  are  depicted  so  as  to  make  a  living  impression. 
Cora  Tuttle  is  a  fine  creation,  and  the  flash  of  love  which  she 
gives  the  hero  is  wonderfully  well  done.  Unlike  many  mystery 
stories  The  Filigree  Ball  is  not  disappointing  at  the  end.  The 
characters  most  liked  but  longest  suspected  are  proved  not  only 
guiltless,  but  above  suspicion.  It  is  a  story  to  be  read  with  a 
rush  and  at  a  sitting,  for  no  one  can  put  it  down  until  the 
mystery  is  solved. 

Illustrated  by  C.  M.  Relyea. 
izmo,    Cloth,    Price,   $1.50 


The    Bobbs- Merrill    Company,    Indianapolis 


U.  C.  BERKELEY  LIBRARIES 


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